Sweet Mother
by MadnessJones
Summary: A funeral leads Dib to learn that his family is harboring many secrets. He meets his hateful grandmother, learns of his father's troubled past, and also must stop Zim from using a super weapon on the earth. Will all of this drive Dib insane?...well, more insane? No pairings. Rated T just in case.
1. Family Reunion of Doom!

_Author's Notes: Well, this is one I never thought I'd write, let alone post...but the plot bunny demands it! This is my first Invader Zim fic. I'm doing this mostly because writing for this particular fandom is a challenge. I know that sounds weird, but replicating the style of this show is both oddly difficult and incredibly fun. There's a certain playfulness to the oppressive atmosphere. While this fic is not intended to be comedy, I have tried to keep the tone that is prevalent in the show and comics while adding my own style and story to the mix. Anyway, this is only chapter 1 of a fic that, honestly, I don't know how long it's going to be, but certainly more than one chapter :)_

 _Please review if you feel like it, and favorite and/or follow to see more ^_^_

* * *

Chapter 1

Family Reunion of Doom!

It had been a meeting full of surprises. The first surprise is that when Dib and Gaz came down for dinner their dad's monitor was deactivated. The second surprise was that their dad was actually in the kitchen making super toast even though he was supposed to be in the lab working on the world's largest forklift. The third surprise was that he actually wanted to have a _real_ conversation about something! Well, good luck in _this_ family.

Gaz continued to play her game and ignore the world around her while Dib just looked at his dad and waited for whatever horrible announcement he was going to make. His dad's announcements were rarely good for Dib, and many of them got in the way of his world saving activities.

"Son, daughter, I have sad news," Prof. Membrane announced morosely, and Dib waited for the other shoe to drop while Gaz continued on with her Game Slave II as if nothing was going on, "My Aunt Kloee has just passed away. My mother has invited us to her estate on the outskirts of Really Big City to stay for the weekend before the funeral services."

"Our grandmother is still alive?" Dib asked skeptically, "Then why have we never met her?"

"Oh she's very busy," Prof. Membrane waved away the question in a casual manner, "Maybe even busier than me."

"Is that possible?" Dib asked quizzically, "Wait, why have I never heard of this _Aunt Kloee_?"

"You haven't? Hm, guess I forgot to mention that during our annual quality time luncheon..." Prof. Membrane muttered more to himself than to Dib, "Oh well, I guess you'll never get to meet her now. Such a shame too. Aunt Kloee was the kindest, nicest, swellest aunt a boy could ever ask for. She loved life, and she loved muffins. _Ooh_ , maybe I'll get to do the eulogy!" Membrane sounded surprisingly excited by that prospect.

"Okay, so if Grandma is still alive then why has she never sent us anything or come to visit?" Dib asked; getting a little annoyed at being so out of the loop.

"You shouldn't call her Grandma, son. She doesn't like casual names," Prof. Membrane cautioned his son, "When you meet her call her _Grandmother_ , and try not to mention your insane theories about Bigfoot and aliens."

" _I'm not crazy_!" Dib shouted, " _And my head's not big!_ Oh, wait, wrong rant. The kids at school think my head is big for some reason. Anyway, _I'm not crazy_!"

"Mhm," Membrane nodded, now looking over his tablet and paying no attention to his son's raving, "Just be ready to leave in the morning children. I have to get back to work. Buh-bye."

Prof. Membrane then left the room in a hurry, and Dib was left to stew while Gaz got up and left the table; never taking her eyes off her game. Dib didn't have time to spend a whole weekend at some old lady's house. He had to spy on Zim to make sure that green menace wasn't doing something horrible to the planet. Maybe his dad would forget about the funeral for the obscure relative. Maybe he would let Dib stay home to continue his important work. Maybe...Eh, probably not.

* * *

Prof. Membrane was in his office adjacent to his lab. He had set the timer so he could check on that incubator with the super fish eggs, but for the moment he was alone with his desk, his computer screen built inside the desk that popped up, and a series of recorded home movies from when he was a boy.

Little Membrane was sitting at a table happily banging his plate on the table ready for food. Even back then he wore his trademark blue goggles. His aunt had just created a new kind of pizza for the Sweet Mother frozen foods division and Membrane was the lucky boy that got to try the final product. Membrane loved product testing, because his mother and his aunt were the best cooks he had ever known.

His mother was the CEO of the Sweet Mother Snack Foods Corporation, the only major competitor to Poop Cola and the legacy Membrane was supposed to inherit. Membrane, however, loved science and wanted to pursue it with all his heart. He still remembered telling his mother about his dreams on one of those rare occasions when she was home. On the bright side, it had been one of the few times she wasn't disinterested in him. On the down side, she hated the idea.

"You want to be a SCIENTIST!?" His mother had yelled at him when he made the announcement in his junior year of high school (at the age of 7).

"Yes Mother, I want to work hard to benefit all of mankind!" Membrane declared proudly, "You said I should expand my perception to include the entire world and not just our little part of it."

"If you truly want to please me son, then you will study the history of snack foods as you were _supposed_ to do a half hour ago," His mother replied icily, "Membrane, my little test tube munchkin, I know your heart is in the right place. I just don't think you've thought this through. Scientists don't make a lot of money, and they aren't taken seriously. The human race isn't ready for you and your revolutionary ideas. If you really want to pursue science, then make it a hobby. Sweet Mother Snack Foods is your future. _Don't_ let me down, son."

Of course he had let her down. Membrane still remembered her looming over him; her black and brown dress swaying slightly as she stood up from her chair to address him while holding her hunched back stiff to show disdain. She was a tall and imposing woman, and her regal voice commanded respect. While Membrane _loved_ his sweet Aunt Kloee, he _feared_ his mother. Running away from home to attend the most prestigious tech university on earth had been a difficult thing to do, but in the end he felt he made the right decision.

He still remembered the last thing his Aunt Kloee said to him before he boarded the bus for college...

"You're gonna do great, Membrane," Kloee had said in that high pitched chipper voice of hers, "You've got everything that makes us great, and more. Hold your head up high, and show humanity not only what you're capable of, but what everyone is capable of!"

Membrane wiped away a tear from under his goggles as he thought about Kloee. When his mother was away (which was almost always) his aunt would be there to play with him, conduct experiments with him, and encourage him to succeed. His aunt was the one that always took him out to eat. His mother never did that. He was a much better parent than her, because he made time every year for his children.

* * *

The next day Prof. Membrane and the kids were off to Really Big City to go see his mother in her stately mansion. Dib had clawed at the floor and held onto the door knob in an effort to not have to go. He had seen in his video feed that Zim was up to...something. He couldn't tell what it was, but he knew it was big. He had to get away from this geriatric nightmare and back to saving the earth!

"DAD! You've _gotta_ let me go back!" Dib shouted when they were on the freeway.

Gaz punched him in the arm and said "If you bug me during this entire trip, you will suffer a million sufferings. Now be quiet."

She then went back to her game, and Dib sighed and leaned back further in his seat. The car seemed to driving really slowly, and his mind conjured up imaginings of all sorts of horrible things Zim could be doing at that moment. This whole trip seemed like a huge waste of time to him.

It took two hours of nonstop driving to get to his grandmother's mansion. Dib's legs were stiff and he needed a bathroom real bad. When he saw where they were turning in though, his jaw dropped. The place was huge! It looked like five or six of their house could fit into that yellow painted mansion, and the driveway went on forever. The fountain in front of the house actually spouted cherry soda instead of water, and there were several pristine classic cars parked in an open garage near the mansion. Dib almost forgot how much he didn't want to be there when he saw all of that splendor and bigness.

"Ah, my childhood home," Membrane sighed fondly, "It doesn't feel the same knowing Aunt Kloee isn't going to rush out the door to greet me like she used to."

Dib was caught off guard by how vulnerable his dad sounded just then. He had never seen his dad this sad before, and it was all over an aunt Dib and Gaz had never met. It felt weird to Dib to realize there was a lot he didn't know about his father. Of course he knew enough. He knew his dad's first thought, his dad's first invention, and how the first date between his parents went. That being said, Membrane didn't really talk about his childhood beyond trivialities.

When the scientist and his children exited the vehicle they saw the door open and a woman with long brown hair, a black and brown dress, and a hovering mobility chair open the huge double doors that led into the mansion.

"Ah, Membrane, my little test tube munchkin," Membrane's mother greeted with an odd mixture of warmth and insincerity. It reminded Dib of a politician. "My, how you've grown! Why, it's only been 20 years since I've seen you, and you've already started a family of your own. Good for you."

"Mother! You haven't changed a bit!" Membrane greeted in return as he stepped up to her chair to give her a hug.

She hugged him quickly and then Membrane turned to his children. Gaz was slaying flaming piggies on her Game Slave II and not looking up at them while Dib was trying to take in the sight of his grandmother. On the one hand the chair and hunched back made her look as frail as any old lady should look, but her strong voice, lack of wrinkles, and flowing brown hair made her seem young. It was an odd series of contradictions, and Dib didn't know what to think.

"Mother, these are my children, Gaz and Dib," Membrane introduced them with what seemed like a smile beneath his white collar, "Dib's a little insane at the moment, but he'll be a genius someday. Gaz is already on her way there."

"Ah yes, video games are good for memory and hand-eye coordination," His mother nodded approvingly, "She reminds me so much of myself when I was small. She even has my fashion sense. Ah, and Dib. You look so much like your father."

"Yeah, sure, thanks," Dib replied awkwardly, not sure how to talk to this strange new person, "So...You're a retired CEO, huh?"

"Of _course_ _not_ ," his grandmother replied in offense, "You think I would leave my company to a bunch of half-witted bean-counting _monkeys_!? Never. I earned my place in this world fair and square, and those suits can take control of my company over my flaming dead carcass! Now, come inside everyone. I had Klaus prepare chocolates and baby back ribs for the occasion. The chocolates are from my new 'We're Better Than Poop Cola' line of candies. Follow me."

The old woman used the joystick on her chair to turn herself around and hover into the house. Membrane and the children followed, and Dib was taken aback by how divided the decor in the house looked. The hall was literally split down the middle between the colors sky blue and ominous black and purple. Everything to the right was cheerful and lovely, while everything to the left was foreboding and dark. It was as if two arguing siblings couldn't decide how the house should look, and considering what little Dib already knew about his grandmother and aunt, that might've been the case.

They walked into a sunroom and sat down on white wicker chairs that were surrounding a white wicker table. Everything in this room was beautiful and clean. Of course, this was a room that they had to turn right to get to, so the left rooms were probably from the creepy black and purple collection.

"So Membrane, how long are you staying again?" His mother asked him point blank.

"For the weekend, so we can be here for the funeral," Membrane reminded her, "Do you mind if I stay in my old bedroom?"

"That bed is too short for you, Membrane!" His mother scolded him, "No man of your stature is staying in a kiddie bedroom. Dib can have that one."

"Gee, thanks," Dib grumbled sarcastically.

"Mother, if I may ask, how did Aunt Kloee die?" Membrane asked quietly, "I hope she didn't suffer."

"Her spine broke after a routine stretching exercise," His mother replied matter-of-factly, "Aspirin commercials are not honest when it comes to the benefits regarding spine breakage. Poor Kloee...she didn't even get a chance to eat her after-workout nachos. I've been so distraught I haven't even had time to get rid of her cheerful decorative crap."

"I am so sorry. She was a wonderful person," Membrane said mournfully, "She was the one that said super toast was a good idea after I told her. Nobody else believed in me when I said it could revolutionize breakfast."

"Mm," Membrane's mother grunted noncommittally as she scooped up some chocolates and began to eat.

For the next few minutes everything was silent save for the chewing noises as the group ate their ribs. Dib noticed his grandmother didn't touch the meat and BBQ sauce and merely settled for scarfing down a bunch of chocolates.

 _No wonder she's so unhealthy and crabby..._ Dib thought.

"So children, what are you plans for future prosperity?" She asked them with an almost condescending air.

"I'm gonna be a paranormal investigator!" Dib declared before anyone could stop him, "I'll use my knowledge of the spooky and unknown to save the earth!"

"Um, how can you use knowledge against something unknown?" Dib's grandmother asked him flatly, "If it's unknown, then you can't know about it. That would make it _known_. Ugh, seriously Membrane, how could you fail your son _this badly_?"

"I told you he was insane," Membrane replied defensively, "Besides, someday he'll come to his senses and give real science a try!"

"No he won't," Membrane's mother chuckled scornfully, "You think children listen to their parents? Did you ever listen to me? _No_ , instead you thought it would be a good idea to give a bunch of yokels free power. And what did they do?"

"Mother-," Membrane tried to butt in.

"They demanded you do it _faster_!" She exclaimed caustically, "You see Membrane, that's how people are! They're stupid, demanding, and ungrateful. Distraction is all they care about, and Sweet Mother exploits that desire to its fullest degree. Sure, you get some praise and a few shiny medals, but what influence do you truly have? Is the love of your fans worth squandering your potential?"

"I have plenty of influence!" Membrane shouted as he pointed a finger at his mother, "The world is a better place because of me!"

"Mhm," His mother nodded patronizingly, "Okay, so you have influence. I'm sure that _influence_ came in handy last time to tried to pass a law for cleaner drinking sewage. No? Didn't think so. Meanwhile all I had to do was send President Man some flowers and a few hundred thousand moneys and he let me mow down some endangered wetlands for a new taffy factory."

Dib was uncomfortable at this table. He never realized his dad had such a toxic relationship with his grandmother. She was ripping into him like he had personally run over her dog, and Membrane seemed almost powerless to defend himself.

"You know son, most parents want to give their children the world, but I actually had the means to do so," Membrane's mother concluded, "I will never understand why you refused that."

"Because your company contributes to the fatness and stupidity of the whole world's population!" Membrane snapped accusingly.

"I wouldn't say the whole world is fat," Membrane's mother shrugged, "Stupid maybe, but not fat."

Suddenly they were interrupted by a large muscular man entering the room with eyes that weren't focused and drool coming down his mouth.

"Madame Jeem, you have a phone call from Sultan Man," The muscular man told Dib's grandmother in a dim monotone.

"Thank you Klaus, I'll take it in living room 14," Dib's grandmother, Jeem, replied stoically; all arguing seemingly forgotten, "Excuse me son, I have to take this. Please avail yourself of any amenities you may need, and take the kids to living room 4. I installed a new Ultra Game Slave III console in there a few months ago."

Gaz's head popped up from her game then, and she quietly muttered "UltraGameSlaveIII?"

"Yes, go, have a good time," Jeem encouraged her granddaughter, "This has been nice. I'll see you later."

With those words Jeem's chair took off for one of her many living rooms. Dib had to wrap his head around the situation. His dad loved his aunt and she died, his grandmother was an evil business tycoon, and his family was rich. Maybe Dib could convince his grandmother to be nicer to his father, or at the very least talk her into buying him some cool new spy equipment.


	2. Beauty Treatment of Pain!

_Author's Notes: For those of you who don't know, an update this quick from me is almost unheard of. So, yay! Quick update! I want to say thank you to the Invader Zim fans that are giving my fic a chance, as well as fans of my regular work that are giving my Invader Zim fic a chance. You guys are all awesome :)_

 _If you enjoy this story, please favorite, follow, and/or review ^_^_

* * *

Chapter 2

Beauty Treatment of Pain!

The next morning Dib awoke feeling groggy and disoriented. It took a moment for him to get his bearings and when he did he was greeted by a steel grey room filled with all sorts of retro science stuff. It took him a moment to remember why he was in this strange place.

"Oh yeah, this is Grandmother's house. I slept in Dad's old bedroom last night," Dib said out loud as he looked around the still unfamiliar setting.

Dib went through some of the drawers just to be nosy, but as much as anything he was stalling for time. It was Saturday, the day of the funeral, and Dib really wasn't looking forward to spending time with his dysfunctional family. He never spoke with his dad, his sister never spoke with him even though he always talked to her, and his grandmother never spoke to his dad. It was just a tangled mess of silence.

He finally got around to changing out of his light blue pajamas and back into his black jeans, blue shirt with the smiley face, and his long black trench coat. He sighed as he looked at himself in the mirror. No alien hunting today, and no saving the world. He would have to endure his boring old life until this whole fiasco was over.

He went to the sunroom, but there wasn't anyone there. He searched through the halls and various different rooms, but he couldn't find a soul there. His family wasn't on this side of the mansion, and neither was any of the staff his grandmother undoubtedly had to hire to maintain this opulent place.

He searched for a half hour without success before he heard the soft whirring of a motor coming from further up the hallway. He turned, and saw it was the whir of his grandmother's mobility chair. She seemed to be in no hurry, so Dib ran and managed to catch up with her in short order.

"Hey Grandmother, have you seen Dad and Gaz?" Dib asked for lack of anything better to say.

"Membrane is preparing himself for the funeral, and Gaz is playing on my Ultra Game Slave III console," his grandmother replied, "Membrane asked to give the eulogy. Thank goodness, because I was totally unprepared for that. I don't mind giving speeches, but I'm not good at looking sad while I do it. Walk with me, munchkin. I'm going to do my beauty routine before the funeral, and then after the funeral I have a board meeting to select the new vice chairperson of the corporation. I need to look my best today."

"Um, okay..." Dib reluctantly agreed. An old lady's makeup ritual sounded more boring than a lecture from Ms. Bitters. Then again, was there really a difference?

Dib's grandmother hovered her chair down several corridors before she made it to a room on the black side of the hallway with a sign on the door that read SALON: JEEM. The one across from it on the cheerful side of the hall read SALON: KLOEE.

When Dib entered the room he was surprised by how sparse it looked. There was a single vanity mirror in the corner of the room, and on the other side was a strange device that looked like a circular platform with a pull bar hanging over it. It reminded Dib of a weight lifting machine, but there were no weights.

Dib's grandmother started by directing her chair to the vanity mirror. Dib followed her for lack of anything else to do but was already bored out of his mind. If he didn't think Gaz would hurt him he would've asked to borrow her Game Slave II for the funeral and all future interactions with his grandmother.

"The first part of a good beauty routine is the foundation," Dib's grandmother explained even though he wasn't interested.

She carefully applied the pale peach colored makeup to her face and then went down her neck with it as well. She was wearing plastic gloves so she wouldn't stain her cloth gloves with the flesh colored goop. Dib briefly wondered what it was with his family and gloves, since his dad always wore them too. Of course Membrane's rubber gloves were for science stuff, while Jeem's just seemed to be a pair of velour fashion accessories.

"Next is the sealant," Jeem muttered as she reached for another tube.

Dib yawned and checked his watch, wishing he had bought a smartphone for an occasion like this.

When his grandmother got enough goop on her plastic gloves and put the tube of sealant down Dib casually looked at it, but then did a double take when he saw what the label said.

" _Chunky's Horse Glue_!?" Dib asked in shock, "Eww, Grandmother! You put glue on your makeup-covered skin? That can't be healthy! Aw, no! Don't put it that close to your eyes! You're gonna go blind!"

"I haven't gone blind yet, munchkin," His grandmother replied nonchalantly.

"But why would you _do_ that?" Dib asked incredulously.

"Beauty, prestige, power...call it whatever you want, but it's all basically the same thing," His grandmother replied drolly, "Ugly people don't get ahead, and pretty people have more handed to them than they deserve. You of all people should know this, dear. After all, your father is a celebrity. Do you think the world would be as kind to him if he didn't look good while teaching them about cold fusion? No, they would not. Come, Dib. I need you to monitor me on the Gravatron Stretchomatic 9000."

"The who in what now?" Dib asked in confusion as his grandmother made her way to the circular platform on the other side of the room.

"The GS9K is the final part of my beauty regimen, and the most important part," Jeem informed him with a slight smile, "Now get over here. I'm going to need you to monitor my vital signs on this little screen here. If you see a smiley face, it means my spine is about to snap like a crunchy pretzel, so you'll need to turn off the device. Got it? Good."

In truth Dib didn't get it, at all. He wasn't sure what this device was supposed to do, but then he recalled that she said her spine might snap. Wait, wasn't that what killed Kloee? Did Kloee _die_ on this thing!?

Dib's grandmother then did something he didn't think she could do. She slowly hefted herself out of her mobility chair and stood up to her full height. Dib craned his neck when he realized just how freakishly huge his grandmother actually was. She must've stood at least 7 and a half feet tall! In her black dress she looked like a cross between the grim reaper and a basketball player.

Slowly, and with wobbly steps, Jeem forced herself onto the round platform. She then grabbed the flimsy bar that hung from the wall and braced herself. Dib didn't know where this was going, but it already looked painful. After all, she wasn't really capable of walking for more than a few steps at a time, yet she was going to try to exercise. That seemed crazy for someone her age.

"Computer," Jeem's voice intoned, "Turn on the GS9K at plus 10 biggins."

" _Biggins_?" Dib wondered out loud what kind of measurement that was supposed to be.

"Processing..." A monotone computer voice replied, "Command acknowledged. Brace yourself, Jeem."

Jeem grabbed on tight, and Dib watched with interest wondering what kind of workout one could do on such a machine. The bottom of the platform opened, and Dib saw that it looked like a bottomless tube of some kind.

Nothing seemed to happen, but Dib's grandmother began to groan loudly in pain as she struggled to hold onto the bar. Dib didn't know why she was struggling so, since the machine wasn't actually doing anything. Curious, Dib held his hand over the hole, and immediately felt it being pulled down into the tube. He barely managed to retract his hand, and he realized why. Gravity. This machine was designed to increase gravity.

"Computer..." Jeem grunted, "Increase to...agh!...plus 20 biggins."

The computer obediently complied, and Dib actually heard some of the bones in his grandmother's body pop. He was shocked and horrified at this strange ritual, but then he remembered he was supposed to be watching the monitor to make sure she was okay.

He rushed up to the screen to see it had a neutral looking face on it with a slogan that said FEEL THE BURN. Okay, not a smiley face. That was good, right? The screams from his grandmother said otherwise, but he didn't know whether or not to risk getting on her bad side to stop her self-inflicted torture.

After a few minutes of Jeem increasing the power and Dib yelling at her to stop this madness, the smiley face appeared on the screen and Dib quickly ordered the machine to shut itself down. The tube closed, the motors powered down, and Jeem let go of the bar and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

She was panting heavily and struggled to push herself off the ground, so Dib went over and held one of her arms. He wanted to ask her what she was thinking, but he was so stunned by what he saw that he didn't say a thing. With Dib's help Jeem crawled back to her mobility chair and then she straightened out the fabric on her lap as if nothing had happened.

"Grandmother..." Dib addressed her with a tiny voice, but then suddenly shouted, "What the heck _was_ _that_!?"

"You wouldn't understand, munchkin," His grandmother said breathily as she gasped for air, "I am a CEO...I must look my most imposing. I can't go around...in a hover chair like a decrepit mummy when I'm...at a board meeting. I'll lose the respect of my staff. Now, let's go to the garage. We can meet Membrane and Gaz at the funeral."

Jeem then turned her chair toward the door and started hovering away, but Dib wasn't willing to let this go just yet, so he raced to catch up with her.

"Grandmother, wait!" Dib yelled as he struggled to keep pace with the automatic chair, "What was the point of that machine? It looked like you were trying to pull yourself apart!"

"Not completely," Jeem replied defensively, "Just enough to keep me from slouching. We all have to make sacrifices for beauty, Dib. Someday you'll have to wear aftershave that burns and jeans that cut off the circulation to your reproductive organs. That's just life, sweetie."

"Just answer me this, did my Great Aunt Kloee die on that machine?" Dib asked apprehensively.

"Of course not, Dib," Jeem replied, and Dib breathed a sigh of relief, "She died on the one in her room."

Dib's eyes bugged out at that flippant admission. What was _wrong_ with his family? He knew his dad was strange, but he'd seen vampire cows that were less eccentric than his grandmother. Something was very wrong with this picture, and he was going to find out what it was.

* * *

The funeral was a solem occasion. Aside from Kloee's 4 living family members, there were also a few workers from the Sweet Mother Snack Food Corporation and some friends she had made while volunteering for various charities. Of course the Membrane family mostly kept to themselves.

Membrane went up to the casket and did his best to say goodbye in a respectful way that didn't make him cry in front of his mother and children. His mother had to purchase an extra long casket for Kloee, who like Jeem was also an impressive 7'8" tall. Gigantism ran in the family, as Membrane figured out when he likewise reached 6'8". Kloee's blond hair hung loose in her coffin, which didn't seem right to Membrane. She always wore her hair in a ponytail with a baby blue barrette. In fact, pink and blue had been her favorite colors, so it was weird that her dress was plain white on this her final day.

Gaz and Dib also came up to the casket, but they didn't stay for nearly as long. It was understandable. To the kids she was just a dead stranger, but to Membrane it was like losing his actual mom. Kloee cared for him and loved him. Jeem was always just a stranger that popped into the home when she needed something. He wondered if she ever regretted the distance between them.

This funeral was hard on Membrane for another reason as well. It reminded him of his dear wife Leena. Leena had died when the children were young. Dib had been 5 and Gaz had been 4. She died in a car accident, so the next year Membrane had invented air bags that deployed from the headlights instead of the inside of the car. It saved lives, and caused stocks in headlights to rise.

He looked over to his mother to see how she was holding up. She was staring straight ahead at the body with an expressionless face. Membrane couldn't tell if she was hiding her hurt or simply didn't feel anything for Kloee. Either one could've been a possibility with that old crone. She never was one to show affection, and Membrane often hypothesized when he was a child that she in fact had no soul.

It was finally time for Membrane to give his eulogy. He stepped up to the podium and began in earnest to catalogue the selfless and giving life that Kloee had led. He mentioned funny and touching stories from his childhood and also talked about her favorite hobbies. He cried during the eulogy, since he couldn't hold it in anymore. He tried to be strong, but he had simply lost too much that day to ignore it.

Dib had trouble looking at his dad when he was like this. It just didn't fit the picture he and everyone else had of the great Prof. Membrane. Even Gaz was giving her father her full undivided attention. She missed seeing him like this, passionate and clever. Truth was, she just missed seeing him period. Jeem kept the same expression on her face the entire time, laser focused attention with no emotion; like a cat waiting for something to move so it could pounce.

Membrane concluded his eulogy by saying that Kloee taught him how to be a better man and a better father, and that was when Jeem finally showed some emotion, but it wasn't the emotion Membrane expected. She smirked, and it looked like she was trying to suppress a laugh. Membrane was furious with his mother, but he knew he would have to wait until later to talk with her about it.

* * *

"What was _that_ about!?" Membrane finally shouted at her when they got home and the kids went their separate ways to their rooms.

"What was what about, munchkin? Be specific," Jeem asked in reply, "And also be quick. I'm going to a board meeting in an hour and I'm taking Dib with me."

"You know what I mean!" Membrane pointed an accusing finger at her, "You were laughing at me at the funeral! Why? WHY?"

"When was-? Oh, right. At the end of your little speech," Jeem remembered after a moment, "You have to admit it was pretty funny. 'Kloee taught me how to be a better father'. Do you _hear_ yourself? Kloee is not your parental guide. I am!"

"Are you jealous of Kloee, Mother?" Membrane asked bitterly.

"Not at all. She did all the work I didn't want to do," Jeem shrugged before maneuvering her chair to the counter to grab a bag of chips, "No Membrane, I just think it's funny you don't see it. Your pride, your passion for work, your aloofness toward your children, your intellect. Membrane, you are _exactly_ the kind of person I was during this stage of parenthood."

"What? No! I am _nothing_ like you!" Membrane shouted defensively.

"Yes, you are," Jeem argued, "You ignore your kids the same way I ignored you. The only difference is Kloee waited until you were out of the house to die. Your wife, eh, what's her name? Yeah. She left you holding the ball and you dropped it."

"My children love me!" Membrane insisted, "Every time my food service drone asks them if they love me they always click 'yes'!"

"Do you hear yourself?" Jeem asked wit her arms crossed over her chest, "Food service drone? I pulled that same stunt when you were a child! The only difference is mine didn't have my face on it, because I'm not an egotist."

"Not an egotist?" Membrane scoffed, "Everything about you is self-gratifying ego! If I pulled half the stunts you pulled in your pursuit of snack-based power the world would've imploded in on itself!"

Jeem's face then turned downward in dangerous severity. She glared at Membrane, but he wasn't going to back down this time.

"Go to your room, young man!" Jeem ordered.

"I'm a grown man, I don't have to do what you say!" Membrane argued.

"Fine, don't go to your room," Jeem shrugged, her tone less hostile but still passive aggressive, "Stay out here while I go to your room and shred all your clothes. See if I care."

Membrane's eyes widened behind his goggles, and he slumped his shoulders in defeat.

"Fine Mother, you win. I'll go to my room," Membrane muttered bitterly.

As he turned to go, however, he was stopped once again.

"Munchkin?" Jeem called out in a much more subdued voice, "Um, about your goggles, sweetie. Do you need me to make you new public appearance contacts? No sense going on TV looking like a loon."

"I'm fine, Mother. The goggles serve their purpose," Membrane grumbled.

"What happened to your contacts, anyway?" Jeem asked; sounding genuinely concerned.

"Well...Two years ago I dropped them in the toilet at work," Membrane admitted, "An intern flushed the toilet by mistake afterward, and I didn't want to fish them out because I didn't want to wear dirty toilet water contacts on my eyes."

"I understand completely," Jeem nodded, "I don't know why the world won't just adopt the laser toilet. Water toilets are so pedestrian. Anyway, I have your optical measurements on file, and I'll have you a new set of blue pupil contact lenses ready in the morning. I have to go now, Membrane. Today was fun."

As Jeem left Membrane scowled. _Fun_? He knew that was how she ended every conversation, but just this once could she not say that? It was after his aunt's funeral, after all. Every time Membrane thought his mother felt a twinge of compassion it would be gone again as if it never happened. Sometimes he just wished he could have a mother that cared more about him than her company.

He hoped she was wrong about him and his children though. If what she said was true, then his world saving science might be driving a wedge between him and his kids. He worked so hard to give them a happy and normal life, but he was beginning to realize there was nothing normal about their situation, and it was his fault. He was never normal, and he was screwing up again.

Membrane touched the goggles on his face and sighed wearily. Appearances were always so important to his family. How they looked, how they dressed, and how they spoke was always carefully measured. Dib's insane antics were a poor reflection on the Membrane dynasty, but Membrane was beginning to think he had been too harsh on his son. If only someone had told Membrane when he was young that it was okay to be different...

* * *

Little Membrane wasn't looking forward to going in the house today. If he was lucky his mother wouldn't be home. He normally wished for her to be there instead of just his Aunt Kloee, but today he didn't want to see her. Well, more accurately, he didn't want _her_ to see _him_.

He had gotten beat up in skool that day. He was the science nerd so that was normal. What made this worse though was that he had lost one of his contact lenses under the teacher's desk when he was punched, and everyone in class saw his dirty little secret. He sniffed again before entering the mansion and hoped he could be left alone for a while to formulate an excuse.

"Membrane! You're home!" Kloee's chipper voice rang throughout the foyer as her chair raced up to meet him, "How was skool today, sweetie?"

Membrane looked up at her, and Kloee gasped. _Oh, no._ His contact was gone, and the blue shiny pupil-less eye was exposed! Others had seen Membrane's imperfection.

"It was an accident!" Membrane quickly defended himself, "Please don't tell Mother! She'll kill me if she finds out the kids saw my eye!"

"I know," Kloee replied sympathetically, "Don't worry, sweetie. I think I can make a new contact for you before Jeem gets home from work. She pitching a new commercial for Splodey Chocolates, so we have at least another few hours."

Membrane nodded and wiped his nose with his sleeve. He had been crying a lot today due to the bullies, and the kids seeing his freaky eye had just made his whole life even worse. Now they would all call him names like _fly boy_ and _bug eyes_. Why did the world have to scorn anything that was different? He couldn't help it if he was deformed in one small way. He was just the same as any of them on the inside. Of course, that wouldn't fly at skool or with his demanding mother.

Kloee led him to the bathroom where he removed the other contact and exposed the other solid blue eye. Kloee left for a good ten minutes, which gave Membrane time to clean up his various cuts and bruises he got from the beating at skool. When Kloee came back she was holding a fresh new contact with the blue pupil and white sclera. Membrane smiled gratefully and hugged his aunt, and she returned the hug in kind. He could always count on her not to judge.

"I wish I didn't have to wear them," Membrane said once the contacts were in place, "They itch, and I don't see as well with them on."

"I'm sorry, but your teacher said you couldn't wear your goggles to skool anymore," Kloee replied apologetically, "I know it's hard Membrane, but we all do things to make ourselves more acceptable. Your mother and I stretch our bones and preserve our skin to stay looking young, tall, and slender. You wear contacts so people don't make fun of your eyes. Society demands certain things from us, Membrane. Striving for excellence is what makes a civilization, after all."

"Monkeys don't have to do this," Membrane argued in his feeble childish way.

"We're not monkeys, Membrane," Kloee giggled, "You're a person, and people do weird stuff to be pretty. Now go do your homework, and I'll bring you some dinner. Tonight I made quesadillas and green beans with ice cream for dessert."

"Is it Sweet Mother Frozen Dairy Strawberry?" Membrane asked cheekily.

"Nope, it's Poop's new Fo Shizzle Chocolate Swirl flavored ice cream," Kloee replied with a sly wink.

She then ruffled Membrane's hair and hovered away in her chair to make his plate. Membrane always ate in his room. Kloee didn't mind the extra effort to take him his food while he was watching TV or studying some new formula he read about in a scientific journal. She was always good to him that way, but even she knew he had to care about his freakish appearance. Different meant bad, whether in looks or behavior.

Didn't Dib understand that his father was only trying to protect him?


	3. Quality Time of Horribleness!

_Author's Notes: Hi everybody! This chapter is one I've wanted to write since this idea first popped into my head, especially the latter part. Sorry to say this isn't an action-packed chapter though. Zim shows up in the next chapter, but this is the final part of the 'introduction' segment of the fic. Out of all my stories, for some reason this is the one I want to write the most right now. I would also like to thank everyone that is currently reading, and I enjoy reading your reviews :)_

* * *

Chapter 3

Quality Time of Horribleness!

Dib had agreed to go with his grandmother to the Sweet Mother Snack Foods corporate office so he could observe her actions. He knew something was weird about his grandmother, but he wasn't sure what. His working theories were vampire, mummy, and vampire mummy.

As she hovered into the office and Dib walked beside her chair he started to feel like he had made a mistake in coming here. The building was huge, and there was nothing to do besides watch adults work on adult things. Some had tablets in their hands, others mumbled into headsets, and still others blah-blah'ed on their corded telephones. _Why do offices still have those?_ Dib wondered.

He got in the elevator with his grandmother and felt the awkward silence drag over them since they were the only two on the blasted thing and it seemed to be taking an eternity to get to the 98th floor where the board meeting was being held. Dib tried not to focus too much on the fact that the door was closed and there was little room, but it only made him think about it more.

Finally they made it to their floor, and Dib sighed in relief as the doors opened. He wasn't exactly claustrophobic, but after being captured by Zim as many times as he'd been he didn't really trust closed-in places. If his grandmother knew he was uncomfortable she didn't let on. He was pretty sure she was just ignoring him though.

They strolled along to the glass and wooden door where the meeting was being held, but before they got there Dib's grandmother stopped in the hallway and slowly hefted herself out of the hover chair. She typed in a key code that revealed a secret storage nook in the wall and deposited her chair inside.

"What are you doing?" Dib asked worriedly, "You can't walk on your own!"

"I can for short distances," Jeem replied in a strained voice from trying to hold herself upright, "I can't show weakness to my executives. I will manage until the meeting is over. I expect you to be quiet and pay attention while we're inside. Understand?"

"Um, sure Grandmother," Dib replied uncertainly; both afraid _of_ her and afraid _for_ her.

Jeem whipped out a foldable cane from inside a fold in her dress. It was black with a golden handle that looked like a sprinkled donut. Dib raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment on how odd the novelty cane looked being carried by someone with such a serious expression.

Together they walked inside to find business men and business ladies chatting away about, well, business. It seemed to Dib like every other word they said was 'business'. He knew this was going to be boring, but he had already agreed to this and therefore couldn't back out now. Besides, he might learn he was part unholy monster, and that might be kind of cool. He was sure Gaz would love that.

Jeem stood at the end of the long oval shaped table and spread her hands across the polished wood of its surface. When she took this stance all chatter instantly died down and all businesspeople present gave their undivided attention to their CEO. She smiled in satisfaction, knowing this was how they always acted and relishing showing off this kind of power in front of her grandson.

"Greetings, life blood of Sweet Mother Snack Foods," Jeem said with a flourish of her gloved hand, "As you know, our company has suffered a terrible loss. Kloee recently succumbed to the cold grip of death, and the time for grieving has both come and gone. Now is the time to pick out the new vice chairperson of Sweet Mother Snack Foods. Everyone, please rise for my decision."

It was an odd speech to say the least. Jeem treated the election of a new vice chairperson like a ruling in court. Even the way she eyed her staff seemed calculated and judgmental. Dib noticed that she seemed to be counting her staff as she pointed at each of them with a finger and then tilted her head this way and that. The suspense was getting to the adults in the room, but all Dib felt was very slight curiosity seasoned with boredom.

"Alright then, I choose...Bill to be the new vice chairperson of the company," Jeem said in an almost bored tone; quite the change from a moment ago.

" _BILL_!?" A blonde woman screeched in protest, "But he spills coffee all over everything! Not to mention he never files paperwork for himself!"

"Neither did Kloee," Jeem replied flatly, "My decision is final. The new vice is Bill."

"But you can't!" The woman argued, "He's an idiot that smells like liverwurst!"

"That's it! You've defied me twice, Andrea," Jeem hissed as she narrowed her eyes dangerously at the dissenter, " _You're fired_!"

The woman known as Andrea screamed loudly and writhed on the floor for a moment before getting up and running out of the room crying. Jeem scowled as the other business people watched their former colleague go.

"Bill, find a replacement for Andrea from among the peons in marketing," Jeem ordered dismissively; already forgetting the face of her former employee.

"Yes, Ms. Jeem," Bill replied enthusiastically like the yes-man he clearly was, "Will there be anything else, Ms. Jeem?"

"Yes, start working with R&D on a new toffee-based candy that will compete with Poop cola's new Crackin' Caramel Crunch," Jeem ordered as she turned to a white board, "Now, it is time to go over our sales figures for last quarter in long boring detail. Bill, get me my really big calculator and a stack of papers."

Dib groaned when he heard those words. Not only was his grandmother a heartless Scrooge, she was also meticulously detailed and anal-retentive. This was going to be a long day for the junior paranormal investigator.

* * *

When Dib and Jeem returned home from the office it was after 7:00 PM, and Dib just wanted to crawl into a bed and sleep. Normally he wouldn't sleep so early, but this day really took its toll on him. First a funeral, and then spending hours at an office building with his mean grandmother (who probably wasn't a vampire mummy but was still weird). He just couldn't stomach the tedium anymore. At least fighting Zim was exciting, even if the alien invader was crazy.

Jeem meanwhile noticed that Dib didn't really speak to her much during their time together. She didn't have time to notice during business hours, but on the car ride home it was painfully obvious he just wanted to get away from her and from the Sweet Mother Snack Foods Corporation.

 _Hm, maybe Dib isn't the right one to inherit the company..._ Jeem thought ruefully. _Membrane doesn't want it, and Dib doesn't care. The only one left is Gazlene. I have to make her want this company, or else when I die my empire will crumble. Hm...I just need to figure out how to play the grandmother card better..._

Gaz sat on the exact same couch she had been on for most of her visit with her grandmother. She was playing Project Steroid 7 on the Ultra Game Slave III console in the entertainment room and had already gotten past 89 levels. She vaguely wondered if her dad would buy her an Ultra Game Slave III, or barring that, if he would let her live in this mansion for a while.

Gaz's concentration was halfway interrupted by the sound of a motorized hover chair entering the room. She knew it was her grandmother, but she had to beat this boss level before she could address anything else, so she didn't acknowledge the older woman.

"Gazlene dear, save that game when you get a chance and then turn it off," Jeem insisted, "I need to speak to you."

Gaz grunted to let her grandmother know she heard her. She really didn't want to shut the game off, but she was at least grateful her grandmother didn't just turn it off like Dib used to do on her original Ultra Game Slave I console when they were younger. Oh, how she used to make him _suffer_ for that...

10 minutes later Gaz turned off the console, only to see her Grandmother was still sitting there waiting patiently. Jeem had a large book in her lap and was smiling in a way that seemed to not quite reach her eyes. Gaz was suspicious but decided to keep quiet and see where this was going.

"I've been doing research on how grandmothers behave," Jeem informed Gaz, "And I have figured out grandparents are supposed to inflict family photo time on their grandchildren. So, without further adieu, let the forced reminiscing begin."

Gaz groaned and threw the game controller against the couch in frustration. Why couldn't her grandmother go bother Dib some more? Then again they were leaving her house the next morning, so at least this wouldn't become a regular thing. Gaz decided her best course of action was to feign interest and get it over with as quickly as possible.

Jeem opened the book and began to flip through old photos that had been carefully organized so that they lined up perfectly on the pages. Gaz vaguely wondered why her grandmother didn't just save these things on her computer instead of having physical copies.

"This first picture is of your father after his first high school party," Jeem explained as she pointed to a photo of Membrane wobbling around with puke on his collar.

"How drunk did he get?" Gaz asked as she suppressed a chuckle at how silly her father looked.

"He wasn't drinking," Jeem explained, "He just ate some bad bologna. Seriously, they just left it out where the flies and the grubby teenagers could get their germs all over it! Why Kloee let him go to that party I'll never know."

"Weren't _you_ there?" Gaz asked critically.

"No, sweetie. I was at work," Jeem replied as if that explained everything, "Now, this photo is of the ventriloquist dummy your father made that looked exactly like him. He was trying to get out of going to skool, so he thought putting this thing in his bed would help him with that."

"Did it work?" Gaz asked impishly.

"Not really, but I didn't hold it against him," Jeem shrugged, "Later that night we watched the Cruppets on TV together. It was actually a pretty good night."

"What's the Cruppets?" Gaz asked curiously; surprised she was even interested.

"It stands for 'crappy puppets'," Jeem chuckled, "It was your father's favorite show, and I rather enjoyed it myself. It was one thing we could agree on. Oh, here's a photo of the first ever Sweet Mother chocolate factory. Honestly, I think chocolate is earth's greatest invention. Sad that it's in such short supply now. Oh well, nobody seems to notice the substitutes we use to keep them from realizing the lack of chocolate, so it all worked out."

Gaz almost ran a hand over the old photograph, but stopped herself. The factory photo was much older than the other ones. It had a sepia tone to it indicating an old camera was used, and it was disintegrating around the edges and cracked in a couple places.

"How old is your company?" Gaz asked.

"Hm...I think Sweet Mother first opened...a little over 300 years ago," Jeem replied uncertainly, "By corporation standards it's pretty old, and it's been in the family that entire time. It's mine now, and someday it could be yours."

"You'd give me a candy factory?" Gaz asked skeptically.

"Not just a candy factory, and not until I die first, munchkin," Jeem laughed goodnaturedly, "At this point in time I'm thinking of splitting up the will so you and Dib each get a 50% stake in the company, but if Dib forfeits his share then it will all be yours. I had so wanted Membrane to replace me, but he's too interested in his sciencey stuff to worry about me. I love that boy, but one day he's going to wipe out humanity with his crazy stunts."

"How come Dad is alone in so many of these old photos?" Gaz asked; a twinge of something akin to sadness in her tone.

"Because Kloee always took the pictures when she couldn't get one of our staff to do it," Jeem explained, "I wasn't in most of them because I wasn't always here. Sadly Membrane inherited my workaholic gene. It's actually pretty normal for people in our family to become obsessed with things. With me it's the company, with Kloee it was cooking, and with Membrane it was science."

"With me it's video games," Gaz replied with a small smile, "I'm better than anyone else I know. Maybe when I grow up I'll start an Internet channel all about the different games I like to play and techniques for getting to all the secret levels and junk. So, I notice there are no pictures of Grandpa in this album. What was he like?"

"Well, if I remember the donor profile correctly, his name was Sanchez, he was 6'8", 189 lbs., Caucasian complexion, 26 years old, black hair, blue eyes, owned a motorcycle repair business, no history of mental illness, and had an IQ of 146."

"So you went to a sperm bank?" Gaz asked as she raised an eyebrow at her grandmother.

"I'm surprised you know about such things, but yes," Jeem replied with a sardonic smile, "Actually obtaining DNA from a male partner for the genetic sequence combulator device was the easy part. The hard part was figuring out how to get enough of my own DNA in the machine to make it work."

"Couldn't you just use an egg?" Gaz asked as if it should be obvious.

"I'm not a doctor, sweetie. I couldn't get to my eggs," Jeem explained patiently, "Instead I just used my old severed thumb."

"Whoa! You got your _thumb_ cut off!?" Gaz exclaimed incredulously, "How'd it happen? A shop class accident? Or maybe you were held for ransom and the kidnapper cut off your thumb to show he was serious!"

"Okay, you sound _way_ too excited about that," Jeem chuckled, "The important part of the story though is that I had what I needed to make Membrane. I had to use several different beakers and tubes to properly incubate the little guy. I still remember in his 7th month I accidentally broke his tube and had to use an old Mason jar! Haha, oh, those were good times. It was so rewarding to get to hold him for the first time and get to welcome him into the world."

"So wait, when you call Dad your little test tube munchkin, you mean it?" Gaz inquired with a dry smile, "So you _do_ like science!"

"I used to," Jeem admitted as she closed the photo album, "However, I've made some terrible mistakes. I invented a horrible device that forced dependency on the user and caused them to become mindless drones."

"You invented the _Game Slave_?" Gaz asked hopefully.

"No Gazlene, nothing like that," Jeem sighed, "It's not important anymore. Science is nice in moderation, but sometimes you have to think about the consequences of your actions before doing something irreversible. Oh my, look at the time. I have to go meet with my tax man! I'm sorry I can't stay longer Gaz, but I simply must be going. Thank you for talking with me. It's been fun. Goodbye."

Jeem then turned on her chair to leave, but then she heard Gaz call out "Wait!"

"Yes, Gazlene?" Jeem stopped and turned her head back to look at her granddaughter.

"Can I see the nub where your thumb used to be sometime?" Gaz requested.

"Maybe," Jeem shrugged, "Who knows? I might even show you where I keep my _other_ thumb."

"You got them _both_ cut off!?" Gaz exclaimed with morbid curiosity.

Jeem simply chuckled softly to herself and then left the little gamer alone in the room once again. Gaz turned the console back on, but her mind was only half focused on the hordes of enemies she was defeating on the screen. Gaz thought about how she could inherit a multi-billion dollar company someday, how her grandmother tried to reach out to her, and how cool this visit was turning out to be.


	4. Alien Hunting of Doom!

_Author's Notes: Well, between my most recent gig and a fever I've had, I didn't think I'd get any writing done, let alone another chapter of this story. I got the late night writing bug though, so I had to finish and post this chapter. I like how this one turned out since there's finally some action and plot progression. Hopefully you guys like it too, and thanks for reading my story :)_

* * *

Chapter 4

Alien Hunting of Doom!

The weekend at Membrane's mother's house had come and gone. It was now Monday morning, and Dib was still feeling tired from the weekend's activities. He had almost slept in and missed the bus, accidentally grabbed Gaz's backpack by accident and then had to avoid getting beat up by her, and then to top off his _perfect_ morning he tripped and fell in a mud puddle in front of the skool.

Now it was 10:00 AM, and Ms. Bitters was in the middle of a long boring lecture. Dib felt grimy and sore from his earlier mud puddle fall, but he ignored it in favor of his well known and nearly evangelical obsession; spying on Zim.

For almost a year Dib had been protecting the earth from an alien invasion. He was the unsung hero that kept watch over the green menace that for some reason had found his way into Dib's skool and into Dib's life. Zim of course had everyone else fooled, but Dib honestly didn't see how. How was he the only one enlightened enough to realize that an alien monster sat among them every weekday? It was absurd, and Dib vowed that one day he would prove to the world that he was right and that Zim was a scaly hideous conqueror. It was only a matter of time.

"...And because the brown tree snake had no natural predators in its new environment, it ate _everythiiing_!" Ms. Bitters continued her lecture that Dib and most of the other students were oblivious to.

"Heh heh, foolish native wildlife," Zim snickered quietly to himself, but Dib heard him.

"That's why if you see an invasive species in your backyard, you should kill it with something sharp and/or, heavy," Ms. Bitters concluded.

Dib watched as Zim scribbled on a piece of paper he was supposed to be taking school notes on. Instead it looked like Zim was sketching out blueprints for some kind of deadly weapon. Dib leaned over as far as he could to see what kind of device Zim was going to build, but when he stretched out his neck as far as he could the kid at the next desk (whose face was now inches from Dib's) pushed Dib away and caused him to fall out of his chair with a loud thud.

"Dib! Enough nonsense! Stop lying on the ground immediately!" Ms. Bitters barked impatiently.

"Yes, Ms. Bitters," Dib moaned compliantly as he stood up and rubbed his sore bottom.

He sat back down, and noticed most of the kids were quietly laughing at him. He glared in their general direction, but then noticed Zim didn't even see him fall. The green alien was too busy scribbling his notes to even notice the world around him. Dib, while he was standing, managed to make out three words on the side of the paper: the local park.

 _So, Zim's plan takes place in the park_... Dib thought suspiciously. _Well then, it looks like it's time for this paranormal investigator to plan his next move..._

* * *

Jeem sat by one of her large windows that overlooked her side courtyard. It was Monday, around noon, and she had taken the day off work since she wasn't feeling well. She looked out at the green lush grass, the blue cloudless sky, and the bright hot sun that shone down innocently while casting fatal light upon the eyes of mortal men.

 _It shouldn't be this beautiful out today..._ Jeem thought bitterly. _How_ dare _the weather be so pleasant today, when everything is so wrong!_

After the funeral Jeem had given permission to have Kloee's body cremated, and then the funeral director gave Jeem the urn with Kloee's ashes.

 _Yuck! Ashes!_ Jeem thought with disgust.

Ashes was another word for dust, and dust was another word for _dirt_. Kloee's body had been turned into a jar of dirt, and Jeem felt like an idiot for holding onto it. It was just filth. Why did this have to mean so much? She didn't know what to do with that royal blue and silver colored container of people dust, and she certainly didn't know who to consult about the matter.

That was the real problem. Kloee was Jeem's only peer, and now she was gone. Jeem had never needed anyone, or so she thought. She pondered about what she normally did when she was alone, but the truth was despite her abrasive personality Jeem had never actually been _truly_ alone before.

It was true that Kloee's chipper nature often annoyed Jeem, and it was true that they didn't always agree on how to live life or interact with others, but they complemented each other. Jeem was the analytical dominant one, and Kloee was the emotional merciful one. Without Kloee around, who was Jeem supposed to talk to? It was like a limb had been severed.

"Ms. Jeem?" Klaus entered the room wearing his usual vacant expression, "One of your timers went off. It was for the..." Klaus looked down at his notes, "...The kiln."

Oh yeah, she had forgotten about her son's contact lenses. Jeem nodded absently to Klaus and drove her chair across the house to the kiln to retrieve Membrane's new eyes.

She pulled them out and searched for any defects; finding none. She would just mail these things to-

"Wait a minute," Jeem said softly to herself, "Maybe that's the answer. I may not have my closest associate anymore, but I am not without family. I will drive these to Membrane and give them to him in person. Maybe he will also take Kloee's ashes. I don't need them for anything, and he might like the pretty urn. Blue always was his favorite color."

Then Jeem smiled wryly at the realization that Membrane and Kloee had the same favorite color. It seemed he really did wish Kloee was his mother instead of her. Jeem hung her head again when she remembered something else. Kloee had always wanted her own children.

Jeem remembered when they had decided to breed heirs for their corporate empire. They had both used sperm donors and their severed thumbs to create new offspring. The difference was Jeem was careful. She only used one of her samples, and she monitored the progress of her test tube baby obsessively. Kloee tried her best, but she was too eager. She used all of her genetic samples right away, and in the end all she had to show for it was four stillbirths.

 _It was no wonder Kloee doted on Membrane so._ Jeem thought. It only made sense, since Kloee knew she would never have a family. It wasn't fair really. Jeem never actually wanted to be a parent. She only wanted something that would replace her when she died. Kloee was the one that wanted the PTA meetings, the firsts, and the family meal times full of gossip from the day.

The more Jeem thought about the present, however, the better the idea of dropping by on Membrane and reconnecting seemed. She could do the aging mother and grandmother routine with presents and undermining her son's parental authority, and she could learn more about the man Membrane had become. It seemed like a perfect idea. She just needed to check her face...

* * *

After school Gaz sat down on the couch with her Game Slave II and ignored the world while Dib immediately rushed up the stairs to grab some spy gear and mail order anti-alien weapons. He was going to catch Zim red-handed this time, he just knew it! Maybe he could even get some photos for the Swollen Eyeball Network. Then they would send him back-up to confront Zim once and for all!

He quickly stuffed his backpack full of alien hunting gear and zipped it up tight. He straightened the collar of his coat and raced downstairs.

"Bye Gaz! I'll be back soon!" Dib hollered.

"Where are you going? Like I care," Gaz muttered as she mashed buttons on her handheld device.

"I'm going to expose Zim for the horrible alien freak that he is!" Dib declared, "I'll be home for dinner."

Just as he was about to head for the door he heard someone knocking. That was unusual. Most people who wanted to see his dad went to his labs, and nobody came to see Dib or Gaz.

"Did you order a pizza?" Dib asked Gaz.

"No. Now answer the door, idiot," Gaz grumbled without looking up at him.

Dib shrugged and looked through the peephole on the door. He saw a mass of brown hair, and then the head leaned back to reveal his grandmother sitting there in her hover chair. Great, and Dib was so sure this part of his life was already over. With a sigh, Dib opened the door to see his smiling grandmother. Somehow a smile didn't seem to belong on that face, and it unnerved him.

"Dib honey!" Jeem greeted him in an overly-friendly manner that also didn't belong to this person, "I brought some things for your father. Is he home?"

"Um...no. He's at work, like always," Dib replied awkwardly.

"Oh, alright," Jeem replied easily as she pushed her way past him with her chair and metaphorically waltzed right in, "You have a lovely home. Very functional. Oh, and Gazlene is here. How are you, dear?"

"Busy," Gaz grunted as she continued to play her level.

"Of course Gazlene, I won't bother you," Jeem replied agreeably, "So Dib, what are you doing today? It's such an uncomfortably lovely day, you surely must have plans."

"Actually, I do," Dib replied, not wanting to sound rude but not willing to give up his agenda, "I'm going alien hunting. You probably think that's stupid."

"No, not really, though I do have two questions," Jeem replied, and then with a sly smirk asked, "How big is the alien, and is it edible?"

"Ha ha, very funny," Dib crossed his arms defensively; believing she was making fun of him, "Everyone laugh at the crazy alien boy! They'll all be sorry when I prove that I was right!"

"Where exactly is the alien?" Jeem asked without a hint of humor, making Dib wonder if she actually believed him.

"At the park. He's planning to do something... _horrible_ ," Dib replied; unwilling to admit he didn't actually know Zim's plans yet.

"Alright then. We'll take the town car," Jeem insisted, "You'll need to give me directions. My GPS is broken and I've never been to this area before."

"The town car? You mean you're really going to go with me to hunt down Zim?" Dib asked in disbelief.

"Why not? I have the day off, and the park has pigeons," Jeem shrugged, "Pigeons are fun when they fight over crumbs like the inferior lice-carrying beasts they are. We'll make a day of it."

Dib smiled wide then. Part of his mind told him to not trust his grandmother's resolve. He still remembered being betrayed by his counselor Mr. Dwicky when they tried to stop one of Zim's evil plans. The counselor had actually run away with other aliens and left Dib alone to defend the earth! For all he knew his grandmother would do something similar. Then again, this was adult approval and assistance with his mission to save the earth. He wasn't used to it, and his heart swelled with pride when he was given that kind of positive attention, even from untrustworthy adults.

Dib held the door open, and Jeem hovered through it without hesitation. Dib sighed at his own inner conflict. She was rich, powerful, and selfish, but then again she was also family. Maybe this could be like when he talked to Gaz about his exploits, only this time someone was actually listening. He had to give this a fair try.

* * *

As it turned out Jeem wasn't really interested in any of the leg work of alien hunting. She drove herself and Dib to the park, and then parked her chair beside an empty bench to feed pigeons like she had said before. Where she got the stale toast Dib had no idea.

Dib, meanwhile, had to be prepared for anything. He searched throughout the park for Zim, but he wasn't having any luck. There were performers by the water fountains doing all sorts of ridiculous stunts for spare coins, and there were children laughing and playing on monkey bars, swings, and slides. Frankly most of that stuff looked ready to collapse at any moment, and the sandbox smelled like cat poop. Why anyone would play here Dib couldn't figure out.

Soon he was forced out of his reverie by the sound of maniacal laughter.

 _Zim_.

Dib rushed over to where he heard the sound, near an outcropping of trees, and saw Zim and Gir putting the final touches on an alien machine poorly disguised as a giant squirrel.

"Okay seriously, how has no one else ever caught you before?" Dib asked before he realized he was supposed to be sneaky, and he slapped his hands over his mouth.

It was too late though. Zim had heard him.

"Dib-monkey!" Zim shouted as he pointed an accusing finger at the boy, "You _dare_ interfere with the ingenious plans of _Zim_!? Prepare to meet your end, stink-beast!"

With those words Zim turned on the squirreley looking device, and it started digging in the ground.

"Wait, that actually _is_ a giant squirrel robot?" Dib asked critically, "That's just dumb. Is it just me or are your plans getting worse?"

" _Silence_! Taste the wrath of the death squirrel!" Zim snapped.

"It tastes like chicken!" Gir added unhelpfully.

Dib suddenly felt tremors underneath him, and he barely had time to dodge the robo-squirrel as it breached out of the dirt and up to the surface like some sort of freaky dirt dolphin. Dib backed away and searched for something in his backpack to drive away this devil squirrel. He found nothing of use, so he started running away and screaming like a girl.

The squirrel chased after Dib, and Zim and Gir chased after the squirrel. Zim pursued the squirrel robot because he wanted to see his most hated enemy defeated, and Gir did it because he thought the squirrel was his new best friend.

Dib searched for anything that could help him, and that's when he came across the water fountain where the performers were. He didn't want to put more people in danger, but this might be his best hope to stop Zim's latest plan for world conquest (with a squirrel, seriously?).

Dib hopped up to the water fountain, and motioned for the squirrel to follow him. Like the idiotic AI it was, it obeyed him and lunged for the water fountain. Dib jumped out of the way just in time, and the squirrel was destroyed in a display of sparks and screeches of agony.

 _Why did Zim program it to feel pain?_ Dib wondered as he cringed.

Once the squirrel was destroyed Dib started panting for breath, but he stopped when he saw spectators were throwing coins his way; thinking he was one of the performers.

"Oh, brother," Dib sighed as he rubbed his head with his hand.

Dib walked away, but then he saw Zim was chasing him with an alien looking ray gun, so he started running for his life again. He screamed and ran over to where the benches were, and saw his grandmother was sitting in the same spot still feeding the birds with no real expression on her face.

"Grandmother! Get back! The alien is armed!" Dib screamed in panic.

Zim heard this declaration and quickly shoved his weapon into his PAK. He didn't know what a _grandmother_ was, but he figured he'd better play it safe in case it was a military rank or some other authority figure.

"The Dib boy _lies_! _I'm normal_!" Zim cried out as he and Dib both got closer to the old woman.

Jeem looked down at Zim, and Dib glared at Zim as if to warn him to stay away from his family. Jeem scowled and harrumphed.

"Hello human grandmother. I am a normal earthen child, and Dib has been spreading horrible lies about me," Zim said as calmly as he could manage (which wasn't very), "I am in no way trying to conquer or enslave the human race whatsoever."

"You're wearing a frilly pink shirt and your backpack looks stupid," Jeem spat in contempt, "Now get out of my way, dirt child. You're blocking the pigeons."

"It's not pink, it's magenta!" Zim argued, for some reason only taking issue with that one statement.

Jeem glared at Zim, and the alien involuntarily shuddered a little. Dib was starting to see where Gaz got her scariness from. Then, as quickly as the death glare appeared, it was gone, replaced with a sardonic smile that bespoke of malicious intent.

"So, you're a normal little boy?" Jeem asked in a deceptively sweet tone.

" _Yes_! I am _oh_ so very normal and not a threat to anyone at all!" Zim replied in a hammy and obviously forced way.

"I see. Well then you're not good enough to be associated with my grandson," Jeem declared with casual disregard, "Dib is exceptional, and one day he will rule this pitiful hungry little world. I don't think he needs to be hanging out with _normal_ little drones like you. So, run along now. Go play with your ugly dog and wallow in your filthy hovel. I'm taking my special grandchildren out to dinner someplace nice, and you're not invited. Good day, normal alien scum."

Dib tried so hard not to laugh, really he did, but he could tell his grandmother enjoyed dishing out that speech as much as he enjoyed hearing it. Zim simmered with white hot rage as he glared daggers at the feeble human female that dared insult him to his very face.

"That's it, human she-beast!" Zim shouted angrily, "When I am through with crushing Dib under my boot, I will rip out your filthy beating human heart!"

"Good luck finding it," Jeem rolled her eyes as she scoffed at him, "It appears you can barely find your own head, given that your wig is falling off."

"Eh?" Zim felt around and sure enough, his wig was askew. He quickly righted it and scowled again at Dib's grandmother, who only smirked triumphantly back at him.

"So Dib, are you going to kill him or is this more of a catch and release thing?" Jeem asked curiously as she looked between Dib and Zim.

"So you _do_ believe he's an alien!" Dib beamed with joy.

"Answer the question," Jeem replied flatly.

Just then Gir came trotting along in his dog suit and started squealing in delight for some unknown reason. It was enough to distract the bickering trio, and they all turned to see what the hyperactive little robot wanted.

"Eeeee! You're the lady on the donut box!" Gir screeched excitedly as he pulled an empty box of donuts out of his dog suit.

"Kloee is the Sweet Mother mascot," Jeem informed Gir, before taking a good look at the box and angrily shouting, "Hey! That's a picture of Poop Dog, you stupid malfunctioning...dog! That doesn't even look like me!"

"Heh heh, stupid scary chair-beast..." Zim chuckled at how flustered Dib's grandmother was at the robot.

"That's it!" Jeem shouted as she reached for the Irken invader and grabbed him by his waist, "Dib, bash his head in and loot his backpack!"

Zim screamed as he struggled in the old woman's iron grip. Dib was so excited! They were finally going to turn Zim in to the Swollen Eyeballs and dissect the invader. He would be famous for his discovery, and the earth would be saved!

Zim, however, wasn't about to be captured by a couple of stinking humans, and whipped out his PAK legs. He aimed all four of them straight at his captor's midsection, and Jeem's chair was pushed back by the force as she lost her grip on the Irken soldier.

Jeem was dazed for a second, but then looked down at her dress and touched the afflicted area softly with her glove. Her eyes widened and she screamed in panic as she saw the liquid draining from the fresh wound. She raced back to her town car and started to quickly drive away.

"Hey, you still need to give me a ride home!" Dib called out in vain as he feebly tried to chase down the speeding car.

Dib turned back to see Zim was making his escape using his spider leg thingies with Gir rocketing behind him. Of course none of the oblivious park people noticed. Typical. Dib sighed longsufferingly as he looked at the empty road where his grandmother had been moments earlier.

"Why is everyone in my life a jerk?" Dib wondered morosely before sighing and deciding to take the bus.

* * *

Jeem sped down the road like she was being chased by a stampede of angry monkeys. She had to stop for a light, so she took this time to unbutton her dress a little and take a look at the wound inflicted by Zim. It was still bleeding, and if she didn't get it fixed she would eventually pass out from blood loss.

"Oh well, only two more hours until I get to my house," Jeem sighed sharply as she gripped the wheel tighter and floored it as soon as the light turned green, "That stupid drone! Attacking my grandson...attacking _me_! Well, I'm not about to let that little mindless gnat gentrify _my_ planet! Then again, what do I do? The grandson hates me now that I have abandoned him during a fight. Also, what if someone sees me try to patch my wound? Okay, I can tell them I spilled guacamole sauce on myself. Yeah, the servants should believe that."

Jeem normally didn't talk to herself, but she knew she needed to keep herself awake until she could fix the hole in her chest. She was pretty sure she wouldn't make it all the way to her home, so she would need to find someplace secluded where she could work on the problem.

"I could say it's green ketchup," Jeem suggested to herself, "No! Crapt Foods owns green ketchup. Hm, maybe I could buy them out within the next few weeks. I don't know why we haven't already merged with them...Wait, focus Jeem! There is an alien presence on earth, and it is hostile. The only one defending the human race is Dib, and his tech consists of mail order toys and his father's hand-me-down equipment. Hm...I can't go to Membrane about this. He'll worry. Gazlene? Perhaps, but then again I want to keep her safe so she can take over my snack food empire. Wait, empire...That's it! Information. I need to convince Dib to let me help him, and now that I know what we're up against I'll be ready next time. Yeah..."

Jeem saw a parking garage up ahead, and smiled in amusement when she saw the sign overhead that read: Sweet Mother Parking Structures.

"Parking garage? That had to be Kloee's idea," Jeem remarked. (It wasn't.)

Either way it was a place where Jeem could hide her car and tend to her wounds. Making up her mind, she turned sharply into the parking structure and searched for a space. Once she was parked, she opened the glove box to see what kind of first aid kit they kept in this particular car.

"Hm..Let's see here...Adhesive Medical Strips? _Argh_!" Jeem roared in frustration, "These things wouldn't cover a _paper cut_! Not to mention the stupid name. I remember back in my day they called these things Band-Aids! But that wasn't good enough, oh _no_! Somebody got offended that Band-Aids had the word AIDS in it! Stupid people..."

Jeem rummaged through the various bits of trash and stuff in the car until she found what she was looking for, a thin strip of gauze. It wasn't a great option, but Jeem would tie off the opening in her chest until she could make it home and sew herself back up. Jeem never went to hospitals when she was sick or injured. Frankly she wasn't even comfortable with Membrane going, and only hoped he remembered his shots that she would send him in the mail every few years.

With her chest wrapped tightly, Jeem gripped the steering wheel of the car again and drove off for her home. She would have to come back to this town, however. She would have to keep going back to the Membrane household, and this time it wasn't for sentimental reasons. Dib was a 12 year old boy against a hardened soldier of doom. Those odds hardly seemed fair, so Jeem would have to step in and aid her grandson in the eradication of this invasive pest.


	5. Swollen Eyeballs of History!

_Author's Notes: I have had a lot of fics to work on lately, in both Invader Zim and Transformers, but this is still my main story for the moment. I don't know why, but I just really like this particular plot bunny right now. A big thank you to everyone who has read and everyone who has reviewed. It's always cool to see that people are enjoying my stories, so thank you :)_

* * *

Chapter 5

Swollen Eyeballs of History!

Zim retreated into his 'normal' looking house with Gir in tow just behind him. He was still reeling from his disastrous encounter in the park.

" _Rawg_! The Dib had almost been destroyed by my _ingenious_ squirrel robot!" Zim ranted to whichever piece of technology would listen, "But then he had to go and use that... _ugly_ water bowl death trap thing on it! And that horrible adult! Dib has a larger familial unit than Zim originally thought. The Dib-sister is dangerous, but too self-absorbed to be a threat to my glorious plans for conquest. The parental unit is intelligent, but too aloof to interfere with Zim. This, however, is serious. The new unit has expressed a desire to kill me, and unlike that stinky Dib-child she is an adult. Adults are more violent, more dangerous, more credible! I have to know more about my enemy's ally! _Computer_! Look up information on Dib's, uh, what was that word again? Ah, yes. _Grandmother_."

"Please insert PAK for memory scan," The computer ordered, "And be quick about it. I was just about to reboot."

Zim growled at his insolent computer but then did as he was instructed to do. With a scan of the physical features of this hairy grease monster he would be able to determine what if any kind of threat she actually was.

After a few minutes all information pertaining to the human in question appeared on Zim's monitor via the Internet. There wasn't a lot of personal information about this female, but her name appeared to be Jeem, she was the owner of a very large snack food company, and she had appeared a lot on TV, online, and also on this old timey gossip reporting device known as a _newspaper_. Zim hated reading, so he started with the videos.

The first video was from 6 years ago, and it was a speech Jeem gave at a debate regarding whether or not President Man should fund NASA Place's further exploration and monitoring of space.

"My fellow citizens," Jeem intoned on the screen as she stood at the podium, "NASA Place is asking that we reach into our hearts and into our wallets to fund the further outreach of mankind into the universe. To this I say _no_! There is nothing out in space but inky blackness, and should we really spend our country's hard earned money on watching distant stars while our own people suffer from crime, poverty, and hunger? To this I say _no_! To this I say take that NASA Place money and put it back where it belongs! Into the hands of the people!"

Her speech was followed by enthusiastic cheers, and then the video feed cut off. Zim learned a few things from that feed. That look in her eyes was the same one he saw at the park. It was a look Zim understood very well. It was the look of an authority figure who was used to having their every order obeyed and their every need met. This female was powerful, but like all humans she was stupid. Defunding NASA Place meant the humans were woefully unprepared to evacuate their planet in case of an invasion. Zim smirked in cruel satisfaction.

The next thing he found looked weird to him. It was an article from one of those...newspaper things, but it was oddly colored. It was a sepia color and was dated 1890. Zim couldn't keep track of what earth year it was, but he got the feeling this year was a long time ago to the earth monkeys.

The article was a long boring affair discussing the first factory ever built in Really Big City. That primitive piece of report paper treated female building acquisition as if it was unusual. Stupid stinking humans. Irkens civilization had evolved beyond the need of manual reproduction, and therefore beyond the need to distinguish gender. Sure, the remnants of what they once were remained, but nobody really thought about it anymore.

Once Zim got over his thoughts of Irken superiority he turned back to the article. There was a picture of two earth females wearing very old fashioned looking dresses that made their waists look tiny and their butts look big. One female was smiling and holding a cane that had stripes like a candy cane, and the other was brooding in dark clothes and held a donut cane. The brooding one was obviously the grandmother unit.

Nothing here seemed useful. All Zim was learning was what he could already gather from a cursory search. Jeem was old and she owned a snack food company. Nothing else stood out, at least until Zim got to the photo of Jeem cutting the ribbon to a new potato chip factory. Zim saw it, but he wasn't sure what to make of it.

Jeem was tall. Really tall. Zim was used to the paradox of humans being tall yet very stupid, but this...She dwarfed everyone else standing around her in the picture. She was bent over a bit and still came over their heads slightly. It was intriguing, but also disgusting. He already hated it that humans were so tall, but this just wasn't fair. She was at least as tall as his leaders!

Zim decided then that Dib would pay, his grandmother would pay, and as an added bonus Zim would chop off the grandmother's legs so she wouldn't be so tall anymore. Yes, that would show them.

* * *

Jeem waited a couple days before attempting to return to the Membrane household. She was apprehensive about seeing her so-called family again, but she had to do this. There was no way she could let Dib fight that alien soldier all alone. She had to help him if he was to survive.

She rang the doorbell and knocked. She waited a moment before she tried again, and this time she heard someone get up to answer.

Dib opened the door and saw his Grandmother sitting there in her hover chair wearing that placid smile on her face that bespoke of ulterior motive.

"Hello Grandmother," Dib replied without inflection, "Do you need something?"

"No, but you do," Jeem replied as she barged into the house, "You need supplies and backup for forcing the alien off the planet."

"Why should I trust you to help me?" Dib asked accusingly, "When things got tough you left me to rot!"

"I was _impaled_ , munchkin," Jeem replied defensively, "Did you expect me to bleed out just so you wouldn't have to be alone? I assumed you were a big boy, but apparently I was wrong. Maybe someone older should defend the earth."

"There is no one else!" Dib shouted bitterly, "No one believes me! I try and try to get them to see the truth, but they refuse to believe it! Especially the kids at skool! It's like humanity _wants_ to be conquered by space lizards!"

"Well, even if they knew, what could they do about it?" Jeem pointed out, "I mean, your classmates are children. Think of it this way. Either Zim is one alien, and therefore is not a major threat to the world, or he is one of _many_ aliens, and therefore there is nothing anyone can do."

"Well I'm a kid too, and I'm still trying!" Dib pointed out.

"Yes, but as I mentioned before, you and your sister are gifted," Jeem said with a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "You have a chance to win, but you need help. My help."

"Why would you help me?" Dib asked suspiciously, "You never supported anything Dad did."

"Well of course not dear, your father is crazy," Jeem replied as if it were obvious, "He tried to build a perpetual energy machine. He invented toast that increases muscle mass and brain size. Not function, just size. When he was in the sixth grade he made an air bubble for our pet spider to live in simply because he wanted it to live in a fish tank!"

"You guys had a pet spider?" Dib asked as he cringed back away from his grandmother.

"I like spiders," Jeem replied simply.

"Oh. So, um, what was its name?" Dib asked awkwardly.

"I didn't name it," Jeem scoffed, "It was a _spider_. Your father might've called it something, but I forget. The point is I want to help you get rid of Zim. So, are we partners or what?"

Jeem extended her hand, but Dib was still lost in thought. On the one hand she treated Dib's dad the same way Dib's dad treated him. He could almost hear this old crone muttering "My poor insane son" outside little Membrane's bedroom door the way Membrane did to Dib. On the other hand, she didn't treat Dib as crazy. If anything she was eager to help him. But why? She barely knew Dib, and she got along better with Gaz anyway. Still, Dib wanted to believe this could still work, but he would need insurance this time...

"Grandmother, I'll let you in on hunting down Zim, but on one condition," Dib told her firmly.

"Condition? Who exactly is benefitting from this partnership, young man?" Jeem scolded him.

"You want something, I know it," Dib replied with narrowed eyes, "Frankly I don't care what it is, but I need to know you're serious about saving the world with me. The only way I'll believe you is if you join the Swollen Eyeball network like I did."

"Excuse me, the what?" Jeem asked; slightly flustered.

"The Swollen Eyeballs," Dib repeated, "They're dedicated to uncovering the truth about alien life and other conspiracies. Just last week someone took down Taco Foot. If you join, then we'll really be partners."

"Taco Foot?" Jeem asked quizzically, "I'm starting to see what Membrane was talking about. Oh well, I cleared my schedule for the next week for this, so I guess I might as well join your squishy eyeball thing."

" _Swollen_ Eyeball!" Dib corrected in a whiny defensive tone of voice, "And you need to be ready. You're gonna see things the rest of the world turns a blind eye to, but we can't, because our eyes are swollen. See? It's wordplay. I got it from their website. Pretty cool, huh?"

"Uh huh," Jeem replied flatly; clearly disinterested, "Let's just get this over with, Dib munchkin."

Dib raced up the stairs to start packing things they would need for surveillance, and Jeem waited for him downstairs. She looked at the couch and saw that Gaz was sitting there the entire time playing her game.

"You're gonna join the nut brigade?" Gaz asked almost mockingly.

"Might as well," Jeem replied easily, "My staff often tells me I need a hobby."

"Hmph, I don't know why I put up with him," Gaz scoffed as she paused her game and turned around to face the older woman.

"I know why," Jeem replied with a grin.

"Yeah, right," Gaz replied dismissively, "How would you know how annoying he is to live with?"

"Because I had Kloee for a sister," Jeem replied sagely, "You put up with Dib because you and he only have each other to count on. It's the same reason I put up with Kloee and her annoyingly cheerful antics. When I was younger I wished I didn't have to be saddled with Kloee always by my side copying everything I did and trying to make the world a happier place. Now though I realize that she and I depended on each other. We looked out for each other in a way that no one else would. You and Dib may not like each other, but you need each other."

"So Kloee followed you around, huh?" Gaz asked in mild curiosity, "So you were the older one?"

"Well...actually, I don't know," Jeem suddenly realized, "Back in my day age wasn't really that important, especially not in the old country."

"Old country?" Gaz asked.

"Yes, that's what you call it when you move from an old culture to a new one. The old country," Jeem repeated goodnaturedly.

"So if you don't know how old you are or how old Aunt Kloee was then how did you figure out what grade you were in at skool?" Gaz asked skeptically.

"We didn't arrange skools by age but rather went to training classes according to subject," Jeem explained, "Education was important, but it went by rather quickly. This way kids could get to work faster. Child labor laws weren't a thing in the old country either."

"No wonder you left," Gaz remarked.

"You know...I've never really talked about my childhood in this way," Jeem admitted, "Membrane never asked me, and even when he had questions I often avoided them. I suppose that was a mistake on my part, but I just wanted him to have a normal childhood. I guess I screwed that up too. I ignored him, and he ignores you. Maybe this family shouldn't have another generation..."

"Did your parents ignore you too?" Gaz asked in a voice that almost sounded sympathetic, at least for Gaz, "I mean, what were your parents like?"

"I didn't have any," Jeem shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"You were an orphan?" Gaz surmised.

"No, I just didn't have a family," Jeem replied, though it was clear Gaz still didn't understand so Jeem continued, "In the old country children lived in nursery towns known colloquially as 'colonies'. When a couple gave birth to a child, they left the child at a nursery town with hundreds of other children just like them. When the children were old enough they would go from house to house to get what they needed from various adults. I remember I would eat at one house, get a drink at the fountains, and then when I was done with my lessons I would find a house to sleep in. I never bothered to learn the adults' names. If I wanted to buy clothes or toys I would find odd jobs at either a house or a business. I did everything from mopping floors to serving snacks to polishing cars. It was how children were made useful, and it was how we learned to survive."

"So wait, in your old country," Gaz said slowly, "If I wanted a new Game Slave, I would have to go door to door and look for a job?"

"Gazlene, if you wanted _food and shelter_ you would have to go door to door," Jeem replied with amusement in her tone, "It literally took a village to raise us."

"So wait," Gaz asked hurriedly, "If you don't know who your family is, then how do you know you and Aunt Kloee are sisters?"

"Well, actually, we didn't know, and we probably weren't," Jeem confessed in a candid tone, "Kloee and I met as colleagues after we were both adults. I didn't like her, and I wanted her to go away. Over time though, we helped each other out of very trying situations, and realized we survived better together than alone. We declared each other sisters, but the truth is I doubt we had any genetic link."

"So Dad, and by extension me and Dib, aren't related to her at all? Just to you?" Gaz asked for confirmation.

"Yes," Jeem replied with a small nod.

"So all that goodness Aunt Kloee had that Dad liked so much...we don't have it," Gaz stated quietly, "All we have is your bitterness."

"Ouch," Jeem commented flatly, "Seriously though, genetics don't make you who you are. If you want to be a good person, figure out the methods, costs, and benefits. Then just do it. You and your brother are not doomed. I failed Membrane, and I'm pretty sure he's failing you, but that doesn't have to be the end. You and your brother are both strong-willed people, and you'll figure out how to live the life you want to soon enough."

Dib ran down the stairs as Jeem finished that sentence, and Jeem gave Gaz a small nod in farewell before following Dib out the door.

Gaz just sat there for a moment without playing her game. It seemed like every time she talked to her grandmother their family made less and less sense. At the same time though, Gaz also found she liked talking with her grandmother. Jeem was a role model that Gaz could model off of, and an authority figure that was accessible. Finally after realizing she would figure out nothing more about her grandmother or why she humored Dib's stupid alien hunting, Gaz unpaused her game and allowed electronic bliss to cloud her mind once more.

* * *

Dib had to direct Jeem where to drive to get to Swollen Eyeball headquarters, and it took all of Jeem's willpower to not yell at her grandson for being such a loud backseat driver. Heaven forbid she leave a turn signal on or something! To be fair though, Jeem was a lousy driver and would often take her hand off the brake to use the horn or turn the dial on the radio.

The place they ended up at was an unassuming brick building on the same side of town as several warehouses and the city cesspool. It was out of the way; perfect for a secret organization. Jeem felt a bit nervous about this, but she dared not let it show lest her grandson think she was a coward.

"Alright Grandmother, just stick close to me, and soon you'll be ready to help expose the lies and conspiracies of the world," Dib whispered with barely contained enthusiasm.

"Is my car safe here?" Jeem asked apprehensively, "It's a newer model, you know."

"Just come on!" Dib replied impatiently as he grabbed his grandmother's hand; causing her chair to hover behind him as he pulled her forward, "I can't wait for you to meet the other Eyeballs."

"Oh, joy," Jeem sardonically replied, and then quietly muttered, "I bet Gaz didn't have to do this."

Dib approached a side door and knocked in a very long, very elaborate way. Jeem checked her pocket watch while he was knocking, and then when she realized he was still knocking she pulled out a bag of cheese snacks and started eating them. When she finished the bag someone finally answered the blasted door.

"Identify yourself," A shifty man in a trench coat whispered.

"Agent Mothman and guest," Dib replied.

"Mothman?" Jeem asked critically, "An insectoid name might be a little too on the nose. Especially with those huge glasses."

" _Grandmother_!" Dib snapped; offended, "Oh, whatever! Just come on!"

The shifty man stepped aside to allow Dib and Jeem to pass. The rooms were filled with all sorts of high tech surveillance equipment yet for some reason was poorly lit. Jeem wondered if it was an issue with affording electricity or if they simply thought the dark lighting was more dramatic.

Dib led Jeem down a long stretch of hallway until they made it to a room full of conversing conspiracy theorists. Jeem had never seen so much paranoia in one room before, but she needed to hurry up and do this so she could help her grandson with this invading threat. She sighed, realizing the irony and ridiculousness of her situation almost immediately.

"Agent Mothman," Greeted a man with a scraggly goatee and pasty skin, "Is this the potential new inductee you spoke about on the phone?"

"Yes, sir. She's ready to help us open the eyes of the world," Dib replied with gusto, "Agent Dark Booty, this is my grandmother. Grandmother, this is Agent Dark Booty."

"Are you serious?" Jeem asked with uncontained disdain, " _Agent Dark Booty_? That is the stupidest name I've ever heard. I'm guessing you don't get to choose your own code names?"

"Actually, we do," Agent Dark Booty corrected, "I thought it was cool at the time, but to be fair I joined 40 years ago. That was before we had cool names like Agent Nessie, Agent Bigfeet, and Agent Batflaps. I wasn't much older than Agent Mothman here when I joined. You know, Mothman actually rode the butt of Mercury."

"Um... _Okay_ ," Jeem replied; flustered by the weird turn the conversation was taking, "Wouldn't Mars have been less...embarrassing?"

"Zim had it," Dib grumbled, but then perked up and shouted, "Hey wait! How did you know about the face of Mars?"

"Who doesn't?" Jeem nonchalantly replied, "Dib, when you get to be my age you see some things. _Horrible_ things. Eh, anyway, what do I do to, um, swell my eyes or whatever?"

"First you must promise to uphold the sanctity and secrecy of the Swollen Eyeball network," Agent Dark Booty explained, "After all, there are many government agents that would love to get their hands on us and our findings. Do you promise?"

"Sure, fine, whatever," Jeem muttered quickly; obviously not paying attention anymore.

"Second, we will need a DNA sample to feed into the network," Agent Dark Booty continued.

"No," Jeem replied sternly, "I'm not going to do that."

"What? Grandmother, it's important!" Dib insisted.

"Dib honey, I'm a public figure and a CEO," Jeem pointed out, "I've done some pretty incriminating things in my life, and I don't intend to get arrested because your friends matched me up to some sort of wanted list," Jeem then turned to Agent Dark Booty and whispered, "You know, _the government_."

"Ah, I understand completely," Dark Booty nodded at the explanation, "Well, I suppose we can forego it just this once since you are related to Agent Mothman. Now, the third thing is to figure out your code name."

"Well, if it isn't taken, then I want to be Agent Long Legs," Jeem replied smoothly, "I like the daddy long legs spider, and I'm also the tallest person in the room. Probably in the whole organization. So, it fits."

"Hm, it's not taken, so I'll log it into the system," Dark Booty agreed, "From now on you are Agent Long Legs, and you will help us to uncover the truths lurking beneath the surface of complacency in the world."

"And we'll start by capturing Zim!" Dib added excitedly, "Oh man, this is really happening! I have a family member in the Swollen Eyeballs, and together we'll save mankind!"

"That's great sweetie," Jeem replied casually, "Now, could you walk me to my car? I brought snacks for our new friends."

"Oh sure," Dib replied with an accommodating smile.

Dib helped Jeem out of the building by holding the door for her, and together they made three trips from the car to the office with boxes of cookies, donuts, and peanut butter crackers. Dib was feeling on top of the world. His Grandmother was actually serious. She was really going to help him. Zim was going to pay for messing with earth! It wasn't just her idea of a cruel joke or a flight of fancy...he hoped.


	6. Infiltration of Doom!

_Author's Notes: I think this chapter turned out okay. It's another one I've had in mind for a while, and I think it balances the tension and comedy nicely. I've already got ideas for the next few chapters. A big thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed. I already want to write this, but hearing your positive comments just makes me want to write even more :)_

* * *

Chapter 6

Infiltration of Doom!

Dib and Jeem had a plan for how to take down Zim. They had conferred about it at the kitchen table while Gaz sat in the living room, played her game, and wondered why someone with better things to do like her grandmother would even bother. It took a couple hours, three cans of soda, and five mini bags of chips before the not-so dynamic duo decided on how to proceed.

Dib would goad Zim out of the house for a confrontation. Zim and Dib had been fighting each other for over a year now so Zim would expect this. While they fought Jeem would sneak into the house and record footage of the base on a hard drive. Zim would never suspect she was there because Dib had never involved anyone else in spying on Zim's base before. Well, he did bring Gaz with him once, but that was when they were trying to take down Tak so it didn't count.

Dib handed his grandmother the hard drive and she pocketed it in one of the folds of her black and brown dress. It was then that Dib realized the garment she wore was more of a long robe or coat than a dress. Dib smiled because he realized she dressed like both him and Gaz, and somehow it just made the situation feel right. It was their family against the universe.

They drove until they spotted the cul de sac. Jeem parked her car just before they got to the rounded area, and then the two spies got out. Dib walked proudly toward the strange green and purple house with his water gun while Jeem floated away in her hover chair cutting across several yards before getting to Zim's back yard.

Dib knocked loudly on the door and hollered for Zim to come out and face him. Zim didn't answer, and Dib worried that his grandmother might be discovered trying to get evidence, so Dib had to think up a brilliant plan to make sure that didn't happen. Then he thought of the best idea he'd had all day...

"Hey Zim! There's a broken pipe in the neighborhood! Water should be flooding your house any minute now!" Dib 'warned' Zim.

Zim suddenly flung the door open in an angry huff and glared wildly at Dib as he pointed a finger at the boy's huge head.

"YOU DID THIS DIDN'T YOU FILTHY STINK-BEAST!?" Zim screamed in rapid succession.

"No, but I am gonna do this!" Dib replied cheekily as he sprayed Zim with the water gun; causing Zim's wig to fall off.

"AUGH! You horrible Dib!" Zim shouted furiously at Dib while the boy stood there looking triumphant, "Prepare to face your eminent end!"

Zim then took out another super soaker from under the couch cushions and began to chase down Dib. Dib knew better than to stay in one place. Knowing Zim that thing wouldn't be filled with water. When Zim fired the seemingly innocent child's toy and acid melted one of his guard gnomes Dib's suspicions were confirmed.

It was an epic battle in Zim's front yard. Dib wielded deadly water, Zim wielded deadly acid, and both were out for blood.

* * *

Jeem meanwhile managed to pick the back door's lock and hovered into the kitchen area. She noticed immediately how ridiculous the room looked with a neon sign that red KITCHEN and a toilet that was way too close to the fridge.

"A potty next to the food box? Sacrilege!" Jeem hissed to herself as she shook her head in disdain.

She searched for an entrance to the lower levels of the base where Dib said the labs were. She didn't see anything other than a horribly decorated disaster of a house. She huffed in frustration when something softly bumped her chair. She turned sharply to her right to see a little robot with cyan optics looking up at her in an almost innocently curious way.

"Who are yoooouuuu?" The robot asked in a high pitched voice.

"What the bloop?" Jeem cursed as she looked down at the strange little thing, "Let me guess, you're the dog?"

Gir's eyes suddenly turned a dangerous red color and he leapt back and drew all of his weapons; aiming them at the old woman.

"You are an intruder!" Gir shouted in a slightly lower pitched voice, "Prepare to be destroyed!"

"Where's the lab?" Jeem asked as if she didn't hear him.

Gir's weapons folded back into him and his eyes turned blue again.

"It's over there," Gir pointed at the toilet, "You gonna flush _reeeeal_ good!"

Jeem's eyes went wide in disgust as she stared at the offending dirty toilet.

"I'm not going down that thing!" Jeem barked disagreeably, "Is there another entrance?"

Gir then pointed to the garbage can.

"Of course..." Jeem sighed longsufferingly, "Well, at least it's not the toilet."

Jeem then got out of her hover chair and wobbled for a moment trying to find her balance. She nearly fell over, but finally she grabbed the sink and slowly lifted herself upright. The chair wouldn't fit down the garbage can, so Jeem would have to walk. That was going to be a nightmare. Her spine and feet were already crying for relief.

She stepped into the trash can and soon felt the elevator lowering her down. The elevator platform left without her however, as she soon found she was stuck in the can thanks to the hump on her back not fitting properly. She struggled and grunted, but she was stuck in the can pretty tightly.

"Oh great, I _cannot_ let that drone see me in here like this!" Jeem growled in frustration.

"Don't worry Mommy, I'll get you down!" Gir exclaimed happily.

" _Mommy_? What is _wrong_ with- Hey! Quit it! Ow! Stop!"

Gir was bouncing up and down on Jeem's head to try to force her down the chute, and she thought for sure her head was going to crack open and expose her brains or something. If she could get her hands free she would strangle that horrible robot! As it was, however, all she could do was endure it.

"Wheeeehooo!" Gir whooped jubilantly as he continued to pound on Jeem's head.

Jeem growled like a trapped animal before the bouncing worked and she swiftly fell down the elevator tube! She barely even had time to scream before she crashed on the ground floor.

Jeem landed in a heap of her own limbs and sat up in a daze as she looked around the poorly lit fuchsia colored room. When she got her wits about her she took a deep breath and started to crawl to the nearest terminal she could find. She just needed to get the information before Zim noticed she was there. She only hoped Dib was holding off Zim without getting hurt.

* * *

Meanwhile, back on Zim's front lawn...

"You're stupid!" Zim spat at Dib after their water guns ran out of ammo.

"Nuh uh, _you're_ stupid!" Dib shouted back at the little green alien.

" _You're stupid!_ " Zim shouted louder.

"No, _you're_ stupid!" Dib insisted.

"I hate you!" Zim shouted.

"I hate you more!" Dib declared.

"STUPID!" Zim screamed.

"YOU'RE STUPID!" Dib screamed back.

* * *

Back in the base...

Jeem sat in the chair and slid the hard drive into the computer...only to find that it didn't fit. Zim's computer was alien technology, so it didn't run the same types of drives as Dib's computer.

" _Terrific_ ," Jeem muttered in annoyance, "Okay, so I can't get the evidence. Well, I didn't come all this way for nothing. Computer!"

"Who are you and what do you want?" The computer asked tiredly.

"Computer, be a dear and show me the historical database," Jeem asked sweetly as if the piece of tech were a living person.

"You're not authorized to use this equipment," The computer replied coldly.

"Well, I suppose I could plug myself into you, but I don't think that's an experience either of us would relish," Jeem threatened, "Now, the database, or I spill something sticky on you!"

"*sigh* Fine..." The computer relented.

The computer's monitor activated, giving Jeem access to Zim's massive database of Irken history, alien life forms, ship designs, Irken law, and anything else a curious individual could ever want to know. Jeem started with looking up different alien races.

"Let's see...Planet Vort, former allies of the Irken Empire- _Empire_? So, it's not a single nation, is it? Interesting," Jeem muttered to herself as she read, "Former allies of the Irken Empire, recently conquered by Invader Larb. It now serves as...as a military research prison."

Jeem didn't know why this bothered her. She didn't know anything about Vort and it shouldn't have concerned her that Irk had turned on one of its allies, but there was something about the way it was conquered. It seemed unnecessary and cruel. The people of Vort were cooperating with the Irkens, so why do this to them?

"Computer, show me a different alien species, randomize," Jeem ordered softly as if someone was listening and would swoop in to take her away at any moment.

The next species shown were the Meekrob. They were a planet of energy beings, and they were currently at war with Irk after their central government had been overthrown by Invader Tenn. The Meekrob appeared to be losing.

The next species was the slaughtering rat people of planet Blorch. They were listed as extinct after Invader Skoodge conquered their world and it was converted into a parking structure planet.

"You've got to be kidding me," Jeem said flatly after reading that, "Who is going to park on a planet with no buildings? This isn't just horrible, it's stupid! That planet wasn't even close to Irk!"

Jeem then started skimming the names of planets that had been conquered by or else were owned by the Irken Empire, and the list was staggering. Foodcourtia, Callnowia, Conventia, Judgmentia...the list just went on and on. Jeem also noticed something else about these planets. Each one seemed to serve only a single purpose after it was conquered.

"This is moronic," Jeem whispered disgustedly as she looked at the growing list, "Entire planets aren't supposed to exist for only one thing. Countless species have been decimated and enslaved, and their planets have been stripped of all individuality to serve the hive mind. To serve it inefficiently at that! Who is _responsible_ for this mess!?"

The computer interpreted her outrage as a command, and pulled up a bio of the Tallests of Irk. Jeem looked at the new information with deep concentration. There were two current rulers of Irk: Tallest Red and Tallest Purple. They had commissioned Operation Impending Doom II after the first one was botched when a defective invader attempted to destroy his own planet.

The Tallests appeared to be warmongers and incredibly greedy. Their height was, by earth measurements, 7'6". She was taller by 2 inches. Jeem almost smiled at that, but then kept reading and saw the devastation these two had wrought. They would kill a species for any reason, as long as it was a species different from Irkens. They would take a planet that was even slightly useful, all in the name of ruling the universe. They were spreading their feelers all over the galaxy, and now one of their invaders was on earth.

She also noticed their latest census, and it chilled her to her very core. Their armada's numbers were unmatched. Their soldiers numbered in the tens of billions. Their ships were state of the art. She also noticed mention of the Control Brains, and how the Tallests would kill anyone that offended them for any reason, whether Irken or alien.

 _These two killed off a species for a parking structure planet and imprisoned their greatest allies..._ Jeem thought with contempt. _What are these two? Sharing a brain!? Oh_ wait _..._

Then Jeem looked at the bio again with sudden realization. Her gloved hand touched the section of the photo where Tallest Red's PAK was.

... _They are._

Jeem took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. She couldn't afford to lose her head at a time like this. She had to be strong in the face of this new enemy. Her family was counting on her, and the human race was counting on her. Wait, her family...

"The grandson!" Jeem gasped when she remembered that she had left Dib alone with _him_. That invader could rip out Dib's heart if he knew where it was!

Jeem quickly got out of the chair, but fell over as soon as she tried to walk forward. She felt the jolt of pain and whimpered for a split second before biting her tongue to stop the demeaning noise from escaping. No one was around, but old habits die hard. She dared not appear weak even in private, or else she risked letting herself slip up in public.

She breathed heavily as she forced herself to crawl to the elevator shaft. She had to get out. She had to make sure Dib was okay. The armada was coming for their world and she needed to know where her family was in this bitter moment. She didn't even know why that mattered to her right now, but it was all she could think about; like an instinct had taken over her mind.

She made it to the elevator shaft and held onto her knees as she was lifted up to the kitchen. She forced herself to stand with her arms above her head so she wouldn't get stuck again, but it was still difficult to pull herself free from the garbage can.

She then got out and struggled to her mobility chair. Jeem panted once she was able to sit down. She had never felt so feeble in all her life, and she attributed this feeling to knowing about the Irken Empire's armada.

 _Why did I lobby to defund NASA Place? Why!?_ Jeem berated herself in her mind.

She turned her attention back to her task; locating Dib. She moved her chair forward with the joystick and followed the sound of insults being hurled back and forth. Dib and Zim were still in the front yard yelling at each other, which was par for the course for those two. Jeem, however, no longer saw an insignificant nuisance but the Irken invader that had come to destroy earth and kill everything she had worked so hard for. She had to get that drone away from her grandson!

"I hope they cut you open on Mysterious Mysteries!" Dib hurled another insult at Zim.

"Oh yeah? Well I hope your giant head gets stuck on...something...really...uh, sticky!" Zim lamely retorted.

Before Dib could reply to Zim's uninspired remark Zim was knocked over by Jeem's hover chair. When he got up he growled, upset that he didn't notice her before and also that she interrupted the amazing comeback he was planning in his head. Wait a minute...

" _You_! You were in MY BASE!" Zim bellowed, realizing that she had gotten past security.

"That's right Zim!" Dib proclaimed proudly, "And together we'll expose you to the world! Ha ha ha!"

Jeem realized that Dib had just threatened an Irken invader, and knew that could bring about serious reprisals. She had to get Zim away from Dib before it was too late, and unfortunately she could only think of one way to do that.

"Hey, half pint!" Jeem shouted at Zim, "I hope you fail your mission and that your Tallests shrink down to the size of mice! _MICE_!"

"Huh? You _dare_ insult my Almighty Tallest!?" Zim hollered in rage.

"Technically it was more of a curse than an insult, and those don't actually work," Jeem corrected him (because she knew correcting people was annoying), "That being said, your planet is ugly and red is a prettier blood color than green! Oh, and your Tallests are ugly too!"

Dib was confused. He hadn't seen too many adults in his life spout insults so childishly. What was she doing? She had the disc with the information, so why was she trying to anger Zim? It didn't make sense, unless...she didn't get the footage for some reason. But why taunt Zim?

Zim fumed as Jeem insulted his home world, his Tallests, his clothes, his hair piece, and his "cowardly conformist green blood". It was all he could stand from this creature sitting near his house. Zim let out an unholy shriek and unleashed his PAK legs to lunge at her!

Jeem's chair floated out of the way at the last second and she took off down the street. Zim gave chase, oblivious to anyone that might see him, and kept his eyes trained on that awful human slanderer. She would pay for insulting him and his leaders. No species dared to claim superiority over the Irken Empire!

Jeem hovered away as the Irken quickly gained on her. His PAK legs clattered on the concrete below him, and yet no one seemed to notice anything weird going on. The look in his eyes was murderous, but then again when was it ever not? She had to find a way to fight him off before he skewered her.

She passed McMeaty's. No, they made their meat products out of napkins, so it wouldn't hurt him. She passed by Bloaty's Pizza Hog. No, the animatronics creeped her out and she hated the smell of the pizza. Zim was getting closer, and she could feel her guts churning in anxiety. She had to get away!

Finally, Jeem spotted a sign for Joocy's Jooce Bar. Jeem smiled. A smoothie store was a perfect place to lose the little drone. Besides, she was pretty sure she owned stock in this company.

Jeem opened the door with such force that it slammed against the wall and forced her chair through several customers in line. There were grumbles of displeasure but she ignored them, knowing the Irken soldier was hot on her trail.

"Welcome to Joocy's, may I take your order?" A bored teenager with acne asked her in a squeaky monotone voice.

"Yes, I need your largest cup of water, _now_!" Jeem demanded.

"That'll be zero dollars and zero cents," The teenager replied.

Jeem turned and heard Zim shouting at people to get out of the way as he got closer. He was looking for her, and soon he would see her in this stupid juice bar. She turned and saw no one had made a move to get her order, and she fumed.

" _Where is my water!_?" Jeem screamed indignantly.

"You didn't pay for it yet," The teenager replied as if it should be obvious.

"But you never asked for-! Okay, fine," Jeem hissed through gritted dentures, "Um, okay, here's a paper clip. Now give me my water!"

"Your change is one paper clip," The cashier replied drably, "Thank you for choosing Joocy's."

"Keep it!" Jeem slapped his hand away when he tried to return the paper clip, "Just get the water, _NOW_!"

Zim heard her scream from across the street where he was looking for her, and started running through traffic to get to her; PAK legs already retracted.

The cashier placed a 50 oz cup of water in front of Jeem, and she took it in both hands; watching the sloshing liquid like it was pure nitroglycerin. She shivered for a moment before steadying her hands, and not a moment too soon as the invader came bursting through the door.

"There you are, hair-beast!" Zim shouted accusingly at Jeem, " _Prepare_ yourself for-!"

Before he could finish Jeem threw the water at Zim, clutching the cup so tight it bent until it touched. Zim's screams of pain and fury followed him out the door as he ran out of the establishment and back to his base. Jeem sighed in relief. Now she had to get the car and find Dib.

* * *

Dib had searched everywhere. What would Zim do to his grandmother when he caught her? Normally Dib wouldn't be worried. Even though Zim was an evil alien invader he was still an idiot. He still worried however because his grandmother was elderly and had trouble with mobility. What if Zim dumped her out of her chair and she broke her hip? What if he scared her so badly she had a heart attack? He had to find her and make sure she was okay.

As it turned out, however, she found him walking down the street when her car pulled up next to him. She honked her horn and pushed a button to open the passenger door, and Dib got in without a second thought.

"Grandmother! Thank goodness you're okay!" Dib exclaimed in relief, but then shouted, "What were you _thinking_? You could've been killed!"

"Funny, I was just about to yell the same thing at you," Jeem replied with an ironic smile, "I apologize for my detour, but I didn't want that Irken freak to capture you. One thing I learned in Zim's base is the Irken rules of war and trust me, none of those laws are there to protect the aliens they conquer."

"So you did get in! That's great!" Dib pumped his fist in the air; forgetting his earlier fear, "So, where's the disc?"

"Um, bad news munchkin," Jeem simpered, "The disc wouldn't fit in the computer. I couldn't record anything."

" _Great_. No evidence for the Swollen Eyeball Network," Dib grumbled as he slumped in his seat, "Did you at least learn anything we can use against Zim?"

Jeem took a breath and paused for a moment. Should she tell him? Should she let Dib know the horrible truth about the might of the Irken Empire, and about how nothing they did would stop the conquest and decimation of earth? About how killing Zim would make no difference because there were billions of Irken soldiers waiting to replace him? Could she really tell her grandson they were all doomed, and that he should spend his finals days just trying to be happy with the time he had left?

No, no she couldn't. Telling uncomfortable truths was never Jeem's specialty. Membrane knew so little of the harsher aspects of life when he was Dib's age, and that was mostly because Jeem and Kloee weren't comfortable telling him anything. To this day he didn't know why his doctors always made house calls for mere check-ups or why he looked the way he did. Jeem wasn't comfortable with those kinds of things.

"Grandmother?" Dib prodded when he didn't get an immediate answer.

Then suddenly, Jeem smiled. It was a menacing calculating smile, the unnerving kind that told Dib she had an idea.

"Dib munchkin, I think I know how to make Zim want to leave this planet forever," Jeem purred as she gripped the wheel tighter.

"Really? What do we do?" Dib asked eagerly, "Water bombs? Government backup? Super weapons? Drop meat all around his house so he can't escape and then set it on fire?"

Jeem cocked an eyebrow, and Dib laughed nervously when he realized how crazy that last one sounded.

"No, Dibby," Jeem replied conspiratorially, "We use an ancient technique honed for centuries by grandmothers all over the world. A technique that will make Zim so miserable and so worn down that it will drive him away from this planet forever."

"Whoa, what is it?" Dib asked in wonder.

"Guilt-based pressure."


	7. Prank War of Unpleasantness!

_Author's Notes: Yay! Another quick update! This chapter is going to be the fun chapter, at least the middle part. The beginning and end are both contemplative and plot driven, but the middle part is mostly comedy. I enjoyed writing this as it's a nice breather chapter before the rest of the more dramatic plot kicks in. I hope you guys enjoy it :)_

* * *

Chapter 7

Prank War of Unpleasantness!

After Jeem had taken Dib home she decided to stay at the Membrane house for a few more hours. Dib wasn't surprised since she likely needed a rest, but what did surprise Dib was how much Gaz wanted to hang out with their grandmother. It just wasn't like Gaz to want someone else around. Then again, Dib thought back to how important their dad's family restaurant appointments were to Gaz, so maybe she cared more about family than she was willing to let on.

"You made it to chapter 9 already?" Jeem commended when Gaz showed her a book on the history of snack foods.

"Yeah, it wasn't that hard," Gaz replied dismissively, "Though I did think it was pretty cool how most of the major chocolate companies doomed themselves to bankruptcy with their pointless price war."

Dib just sat back and drank a soda in the kitchen while he watched these two converse in the living room. He was actually kind of happy Gaz was interested in something besides video games and hurting him, but it was still weird to see Gaz get excited over snacks and bond with someone much older than she was.

"So Grandmother, you got any more tips for making people fear me?" Gaz asked with a malevolent smirk.

"Plenty," Jeem replied and she appraised Gaz's face, "First of all, you need to look taller. If you can't loom over your minions then they'll never take you seriously."

"I don't have any minions," Gaz pointed out.

"Well you should get some," Jeem suggested, "They're great."

"Okay, so maybe I could wear shoes that make me look taller. Anything else?" Gaz inquired.

"Well, you already have the attitude and the muscle to back up your intimidation," Jeem stated as she touched a finger to her chin, "However, it wouldn't hurt if you tried to look prettier. Beauty sells, and ugly gets shot down. Maybe some makeup for starters, and some new clothes. I'll take you shopping after skool tomorrow."

"I'm not wearing anything to make me look stupid," Gaz insisted as she crossed her arms challengingly.

"Well, _duh_!" Jeem waved away the concern, "The point is to look powerful, not stupid. Also, I have some books on leadership at home if you want to borrow them."

"I'd like that," Gaz nodded.

"Oh, I just remembered. Those books aren't in English. They'll have to be translated," Jeem declared, "Give me a couple weeks, Gazlene. I'll see to it you have all the tools you need to be the next CEO of the company. Well, this has been fun. I've gotta go now. I need to coordinate Sweet Mother's quadruple booth for the next food vendor's convention, and then I need to see if Bill is actually doing his job or if he needs to be fired. Bye Gazlene. Bye Dib!"

Dib waved from the kitchen when she called out his name, and then Jeem hovered away. Dib's opinion of his grandmother wasn't exactly set in stone just yet. On the one hand he was growing more attached to her because she was family, but on the other hand there were still things about her that creeped him out. Also, Gaz wasn't the same person since she found out she was going to be rich and powerful when their grandmother died. Dib didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

* * *

Zim was putting on his disguise before going to skool. Gir was rolling around in a huge pile of dirt he dug up in the front yard, and his dog costume was getting dirty. Zim growled when he looked at his minion out the window. That robot was always getting into messes and causing Zim trouble.

Zim walked out the door and nearly tripped on the metallic fuschia colored box in front of his doorstep. He staggered back to keep from falling on his face, and then grabbed the box and brought it in the house. Gir saw his master was about to open a present and decided to come in to see what it was. Maybe it was monkey flavored bacon soap.

Zim touched his hand to the box and it opened for him, revealing a long sweater that was purple with yellow duckies printed on it. Even through his insulated gloves Zim could feel how itchy this sweater was, and was about to throw it down in disgust when he saw Gir reach into the box and pull out an envelope.

"Aww, Mastah got a card!" Gir gushed, "EEEHH! It's from my mommies!"

"Wha?" Zim tilted his head in confusion, but then simply shouted "Give me that!" and snatched the card away.

 _Dear Zim,_

 _We are so proud of how obedient you have been and how well you are doing on your mission. We know earth is a hostile planet, and the Irken Empire is grateful for your service. We have read the reports you have given us and realized just how cold it gets on earth. This sweater was especially commissioned just for you Zim, and we insist that you wear it at all times to stay warm. We will be very disappointed if you disobey us and don't wear your very special sweater._

 _Love,_

 _The Tallests_

"The Tallests gave me a sweater!?" Zim exclaimed in jubilation, "I knew it! I _knew_ they adored me! How could they not encourage the progress of the MIGHTY ZIM!?"

"You gonna wear it?" Gir asked plainly as he stuck his tongue out.

Zim blanched as he suddenly realized that yes, the Tallests just ordered him to wear the itchy sweater with the duckies on it. However, Zim knew this gift was a point of pride for him, so he took off his uniform and put on the sweater. He would've worn both, but it was unusually hot for the month of May.

When he put the sweater on, he realized that the itching was even worse than he could've ever imagined! The sweater irritated and poked his skin, and it really hurt. He screamed as he attempted to scratch himself, only to cause the material to painfully scrape across his skin. He hated the way this thing felt, but he would dutifully wear it. After all, how many other invaders could claim the Tallests themselves gave them a protective sweater?

* * *

After skool Dib and Gaz left the building and saw that Jeem had driven up in a black sedan to pick them up. Dib smiled happily, because he didn't feel like walking and also because he had great news for his grandmother.

Dib and Gaz both got in the back seat of the car and Jeem drove away. She looked back and saw that Gaz was playing her Game Slave II while Dib was bouncing up and down in his seat; chomping at the bit to speak to her.

"How was skool today, munchkins?" Jeem asked innocently.

"Oh _man_! You should've seen it!" Dib's wall of silence finally burst and he gleefully recalled his day, "Zim came to skool wearing the ugliest sweater I've ever seen! It was lavender with yellow ducks on it, and it was two sizes too big for him. He spent the whole day scratching himself, and all the kids laughed themselves silly! I think Zita laughed so hard she peed herself!"

Dib continued to laugh at the mental image, and Jeem continued to drive with a satisfied smile on her face.

"I just don't know what could've possessed Zim to wear such a hideous thing!" Dib howled as he continued to laugh.

"Guilt-based pressure," Jeem replied knowingly, and Dib stopped laughing when he heard those words.

"Wait, how did you get Zim to wear a girly baby sweater?" Dib asked incredulously, "And how did you even get that sweater in the first place? They haven't made things like that in decades."

"I like to sew," Jeem replied simply, "The sweater is made of steel wool, chicken wire, and angora. Kloee taught me how to crochet ducks, as well as pigs for some reason. Anyway, that was just phase one of my plan to be rid of Zim."

"You think tricking him into wearing a humiliating sweater will get rid of him?" Dib asked skeptically.

"No Dib munchkin, but like I said, that was only phase one" Jeem replied vaguely.

* * *

The next morning Zim found another metallic box on his doorstep, and he quickly grabbed it and brought it inside. Judging from the presentation, he could already guess who sent it to him.

He opened it, and the box contained a closed cauldron. When he opened the lid, he was struck by a putrid stench and saw a bubbling grayish green liquid inside. He also saw a note, and feared what it might say after seeing the rotting filth in the box. He gulped before reading, knowing he was in for a world of misery.

 _Dear Zim,_

 _We know that earth food isn't real food, and that you have been working very hard. You're a growing soldier and you need your strength to destroy the humans and make widows and orphans of the survivors. To ensure you are at maximum power, we are sending you a special nutrient formula that will make you twice and strong and three times as intelligent as you already are. We insist that you eat every last bite of the formula. We will be very displeased if you disobey us and neglect your nutrition. We're counting on you, Zim._

 _Love,_

 _The Tallests_

Zim was petrified. He had to _eat_ that!? Then again, they did say that it was a special formula designed to make him even more amazing than he already was. Yes, he would eat the disgusting muscle food. It was for the good of the mission...

* * *

When Zim came to skool the next day he was fatter and looked like he was going to throw up. Dib didn't know what was going on with the little Irken, but he smiled in satisfaction knowing the earth was safe for another day.

 _Hm...Maybe if he's sick enough I can spy on Zim without him even noticing.._. Dib thought with a sinister smile. _Yeah, soon space boy, soon you'll be in a lab on an autopsy table being filmed by Mysterious Mysteries..._

* * *

Nearly a week passed with daily packages of gruel for Zim from 'The Tallests'. He didn't feel any stronger, but he knew his Tallests wouldn't lie to him. They were his leaders, they gave him this special mission, and they were supporting him like never before.

Zim worked on a broken signal locator in his lab. Gir had destroyed it in when he tried to pour cake batter into it, and now Zim was stuck repairing the thing. It wasn't a priority device since Irkens never came to earth besides Zim, but working on a low-pressure device gave Zim time to think.

Right now his thoughts were worrying him. The Tallests had been giving him a lot of stuff lately. Mostly it was horrible gruel and his hideous yet still treasured sweater. He wondered why they were suddenly taking such an active hand in his conquest.

 _What if...What if I'm taking too long to destroy the earth_? Zim thought with dread. _Maybe they think I'm slow! That the mighty ZIM is being bested by pitiful humans! No, mustn't think that. They know Zim is powerful, and that soon I shall have these pig-smellies bowing at my feet. Soon the Irken Empire shall have this world, and all Irken kind will praise me!_

"I AM ZIM!" Zim suddenly shouted into the silent room to dispel his doubts.

After working on the PAK locator beacon for some time with no successful results, Zim went out to the front door to check for his usual package. They came with such regularity that Zim was beginning to predict them. When he opened the door however he didn't see a large box, but rather an envelope taped to his door with the words _ZIM_ written in formal Irken script.

"Ooh, I wonder what it is?" Zim said excitedly as he ripped through the envelope.

"Is it a taco?" Gir asked eagerly.

"No Gir, it isn't a taco, and it isn't for you!" Zim snapped as he clutched the letter tighter, "This is ZIM'S mail, not yours. Mine."

Gir looked sad for a moment, but then scampered off into the kitchen to play with one of his many rubber piggie toys. Zim opened the envelope, and as he read the letter, he could hardly believe what he was reading...

 _Dear Zim,_

 _We are very disappointed in you._

"NOOOO!" Zim screamed, "I knew it! This is about the mission, ISN'T IT!? I have failed my Tallest! NOOOO!"

After that outburst Zim continued to read. He had to know what he had done to upset his leaders, and whether or not he was going back to Foodcourtia for this.

 _We gave you a coveted mission, and a special ducky sweater. We have done everything we can to help you succeed and show you we care, and_ how _do you repay us? You only call us to give progress reports, and even then you don't do it that often. You never call just to say hello or tell us about your day. You never come to our ship to visit. Is it too much to ask to see your face and hear your voice after all we've done for you? We hope you at least have the decency to feel a little bit bad about this._

 _Love,_

 _The Tallests_

"Oh, my poor Tallest!" Zim wailed, "They miss me! How could I have not seen it? They really do care, and they want more messages from ZIM! Well, I can fix this easily, and then they'll be happy again."

Zim then went to his large screen terminal in his lab and began to dial the Tallests. He knew time was of the essence, because if they stayed angry with him he could end up on janitorial detail on planet Dirt or back in his old fry cook job. They probably wouldn't kill him though. If the last week taught Zim anything it was that he was the Tallests' favorite invader.

* * *

"Turn it off!" Tallest Red screamed demandingly.

"I can't My Tallest!" The communications chief replied in distress, "He just keeps calling!"

"It's been five hours!" Purple shouted in misery, "Maybe we should just accept the transmission and see what he wants!"

"No! We can outlast him," Red hissed through gritted teeth, "After all, how urgent could a message from Zim be? We can wait him out."

Seven hours later...

"Alright _fine_!" Red suddenly screamed amid the blaring incoming transmission noise, "Answer it already!"

The technician pushed the button and Zim's face came through the screen. He didn't realize they had picked up however so he kept pushing the call button while yelling " _My Tallest!_ "

Red groaned in frustration and Purple hugged his jumbo bag of donut holes to comfort himself amid the sound of Zim's horrible voice. They could feel it, this was going to be a long one.

"PLEASE ANSWER ME MY TALLEST!" Zim screamed desperately while not yet opening his eyes to see they were watching him.

"ZIM!" Red barked, and Zim looked at them with happiness before giving a proper salute to his leader, "We can hear you. We're here. Now, what do you want?"

"Greetings My Tallest," Zim replied with a big grin, "I have called to tell you about my day. After I woke up this morning I ate some disgusting human cereal. It's nowhere near as healthy as the gruel supplement, but it suffices. Then I went down to the lab to work on my Irken PAK locator device that was destroyed by Gir. Then I read the letter. By the way, I apologize, My Tallest."

Purple considered asking what he was apologizing for, but this oddly mundane status report was taking long enough already. Besides, Red looked like he was ready to pop a blood vessel after 12 hours of Zim trying to contact them.

"After the letter I dialed your number," Zim continued, "Then I dialed it again. Then I dialed it again. Then I screamed. Then I dialed it again. After that I dialed your number again. Then I dialed it again. Then I dialed it..."

"Is he really going to tell us each and every time he dialed our number?" Red whispered to Purple.

"Looks like it," Purple whispered back, "Maybe we can put it on mute."

"Then I dialed it again," Zim continued unphased, "Then I wondered where I put my wrench. Then I dialed your number again. After that I dialed your number. Then Gir sat on my head as I dialed your number again. By the way, I think Gir might be broken. Oh, I almost forgot to mention this part, when I was dialing your number I remembered to eat some leftover gruel. The cauldrons are a nice touch. After I ate I dialed your number again. Then I-"

The technician muted the transmission. The Tallests would've preferred to hang up on Zim, but then the annoying little pest would just call back over and over again until he could finish his repetitive story about calling them, and then he would have to add more times he called them because they had hung up on him. Ultimately, they had to be content with the silent bridge and pretending they were listening to Zim's long boring prattle.

* * *

Jeem was back home in her mansion after over a week of absence. She noticed some of her silverware was missing, but it wasn't like she cared about that stuff anyway. She could always buy more. Still, she would have to check the security feed to find out who the traitor was that stole from her.

During her visit with the grandchildren she had delivered several packages and even more letters to Zim's house. It was all part of her plan to make Zim distrust his leaders and hate earth so much that he would forsake his mission and leave. It was a small victory and a slow burn, but it was the best idea Jeem could think of that wouldn't endanger Dib in any way.

These techniques for guilt-tripping a subject into hatred were not new to Jeem. In fact they were taken from Membrane's journal from back when he was a teenager. He often wrote about his visits from his mother, and the things about her that he hated the most. Among these complaints was her controlling how he dressed, controlling what he ate, and making him feel bad about himself using shame and guilt-based pressure. She had driven her son away, and now she would drive away the Irken Empire.

Well, maybe not right away. After all, it was a two and a half hour drive to where her family lived. Maybe Dib could take care of Zim for a while, and she would just send the occasional package to the little green monster. She just hoped her disgusting slurry formula was enough to weaken the little jerk enough to keep him from killing Dib.

Jeem took the elevator in her house down to her basement level. No one was allowed down here except for her, not even her cleaning staff. Everything in the basement was dusty and metallic, but Jeem didn't care. It was her special place, and no intruders would soil it.

She traversed the huge flat terrained lower level until she found the door she wanted. She went inside, and sitting innocently in a display box was a steel and pink half circle object with small wires hanging limply from the bottom.

Jeem sighed and looked at the object with such sadness and loss. Her chair reached the object and she gently rubbed her hand across its surface. Sighing again, Jeem connected a wire from somewhere on her person to the flat side of the shell-like orb. She smiled contentedly as memories began to play across her mind. It was almost like being there.

There was Membrane and his new wife on their wedding day. It was the reception and everyone had champagne glasses in their hands. Membrane wore a white suit with a high collar and his blue contacts. His wife's purple hair was tied in a bun and she looked so happy. She smashed cake in his face while he wasn't looking, and he laughed and returned the volley in kind.

It was strange to see this memory as if she were there. Jeem had not attended Membrane's wedding. In fact, she had never met his wife at all. They certainly looked happy together. Membrane looked so light, so carefree, so...normal. Jeem never got to see him like this, so candid and so happy. The memory felt warm. It was obvious the owner of this memory had treasured it.

Then the bride danced with her father, an old man with a bald head and mustache. Jeem wondered if Membrane would dance with Gaz on her wedding day, or if the girl would even bother finding someone to love. Gaz looked just like her mother, and even Dib had his mother's cinnamon brown eyes.

 _What was Membrane's wife's name again?_

 _Leena_. The database helpfully supplied.

 _Ah, yes. Leena. Thank you Kloee._


	8. Flashback of Misery!

_Author's Notes: This chapter sets a personal record for me for longest chapter I've ever posted on this site. Admittedly some of you might not think much about writing 7,000 words, but I'm not the type that can write long chapters like these very often. Anyway, I'm pretty happy with how this chapter came out, as I've been wanting to write it for a while. Hopefully you guys enjoy it too, and I look forward to reading your lovely reviews :)_

* * *

Chapter 8

Flashback of Misery!

Professor Membrane returned home after spending 9 days in the laboratory being quarantined after an outbreak of exploding eyeball fever. Fortunately he didn't catch the disease, and even better was that he and his team devised a cure for it. He was going to showcase it on the next episode of 'Probing The Membrane of Science'. Overall it had been an exciting and productive week.

It was 12:30 PM. The children would be getting home from skool in a few hours. Membrane smiled when he thought about surprising them with takeout for dinner. He wondered if he should get pizza since it was Gaz's favorite food or get Dib's favorite food of...

"Huh. I don't seem to remember what Dib likes to eat," Membrane muttered to himself as he paced in the living room.

As Membrane walked around to sit on the couch he noticed a small parcel sitting on the coffee table. It was collecting dust, so it had probably been delivered while he was stuck in the lab. It had no address, so someone must've brought it over. He went to open it and silently hoped that it wasn't one of Dib's weird projects or something equally repellant. He looked in the box to see a pair of contact lenses and a blue and silver urn.

"So, Mother was here last week," Membrane realized as he lifted up the urn to examine it.

The royal blue ceramic urn was engraved near the bottom in bold letters. Membrane realized there were two languages written there. The English one read: KLOEE. ADEQUATE SISTER. SATISFACTORY AUNT. FREQUENT FLIER. Membrane couldn't read the other lettering but assumed it was probably the same message translated into...Membrane then realized he wasn't aware of his mother or aunt knowing a second language, or whether or not English was even their first language.

Membrane shrugged it off. He was used to not knowing things about his family. His aunt didn't like to talk about the past. For whatever reason it made her sad. As for his mother, well, for all he knew she spoke of her life all the time and he just didn't get to hear any of it. This thought made Membrane feel bitter once again; realizing just how much of a stranger the old woman truly was.

He then took out the contact lenses. He looked at them as if they were evil, but he didn't know why. The contacts looked more normal than always wearing goggles. He should be happy that his mother made them. He snorted in derision at his train of thought. He knew why she made him these itchy things. Membrane was mommy's embarrassing little secret. If people knew a family with their notoriety could produce such a freak then she would never live it down, and he knew she didn't really care whether or not such publicity would make him suffer as well. She had always been selfish.

Membrane was pulled out of these thoughts when the phone rang. He answered it expecting Simmons to be on the other line, but instead it was the skool principal.

"What happened?" Membrane asked immediately; knowing this probably had to do with Dib's crazy nonsense.

"Prof. Membrane, your daughter Gaz twisted her ankle and needs a ride home from skool early," The principal replied; and Membrane's breath hitched in near panic, "Don't worry sir, she's going to be okay. She just needs to wear a brace for a couple weeks. Also, we need you to come in so we can discuss the possibility of suspending Dib from skool."

"Dib? What did he do this time?" Membrane sighed with grim resignation.

"Apparently Gaz was tripped when Dib got into a physical altercation in the lunch room with another student," The principal replied stoically, "She lost her balance when the other student was violently pushed into her. You need to come over now."

"I'm on my way!" Membrane declared before he hung up.

Membrane was used to sending his video conference screen to attend Dib's meetings with the principal, but this time he took the car so he could be there in person. He didn't have work at the moment, and one of his children was hurt. He had to be there to comfort his little Gaz. He would probably also have to give Dib a ride if he got suspended, which made the professor sigh wearily. He got so tired of dealing with Dib's boundless energy and paranoid delusions.

When Professor Membrane made it to the skool he was directed to the principal's office where Dib was already seated. When Membrane walked inside, he saw a frazzled skool principal in her mid-50s trying to pry Dib off that green child as they screamed at each other.

"Son, what is the _meaning_ of this?" Membrane boomed; causing Dib and Zim to stop mid-struggle with Dib's hand around Zim's shirt and Zim's foot against Dib's abdomen and his hands in Dib's hair trying to pull it out.

"Dad! Y-you're here! I mean, you're _actually_ here!" Dib shouted in shock, "Where's your video feed thingy?"

"I had to come to pick your sister up from the skool nurse," Membrane informed his son, "Now, what's going on?"

"Professor Membrane, your son and Zim have been trying to beat each other up all afternoon," The principal explained as she shoved her glasses further up her bony face, "The incident that injured Gaz occurred when they got into a fight in the lunchroom. Dib pushed Zim into Gaz and she fell."

"Dad, you don't understand!" Dib shouted defensively, "Zim was plotting something evil that could destroy the world!"

"LIES!" Zim screamed as he pointed at Dib, "The filthy earth boy attacked me for no reason! I was just sitting quietly eating my delicious human pig slop when Dib-"

"That's not what happened at all!" Dib cut Zim off mid-sentence, "Just ask Gaz! She can tell you! Zim was trying to-!"

"ALL LIES!" Zim screamed again as he shook with rage in his seat, "I wasn't doing anything! The scary sister was hurt because of Dib, not Zim!"

"You filthy alien monster!" Dib exclaimed angrily, "You're the one that hurt Gaz!"

Dib then shoved Zim out of his chair, and the adults in the room gasped at how violent Dib was behaving toward Zim. Membrane then noticed that a contact lens fell out of Zim's eye socket; revealing a shiny vermillion eyeball.

"Ha! See? He is an alien!" Dib pointed at Zim accusingly while Zim tried to stand up.

Professor Membrane took the contact off the floor and examined it. It was a blue contact, but the red glow of Zim's eye gave it more of a lavender look as demonstrated by the contact still in Zim's other eye. The green boy looked up at Membrane with fear and panic. His secret had been discovered by a scientist! He was probably going to be butchered by the ignorant humans!

"No! _He lies_!" Zim protested in hopes of fooling the stupid humans, "I'm normal! NORMAL!"

Dib smirked triumphantly, knowing this was solid proof. Maybe he and his dad could dissect Zim together once he was turned in to the authorities. After all, what better scientist to examine an alien than the famous Professor Membrane?

Membrane looked down at the contact lens again with an unreadable expression behind his collar and goggles, and then knelt down and gave the contact to the quivering green child.

"You need to be more careful, little boy," Membrane gently admonished Zim, "These things are hard to replace."

"I'm not an alien you know," Zim replied quickly.

"Yes yes, I know," Membrane assured Zim before turning back to the matter at hand.

" _What_!?" Dib shouted incredulously, "How can you say that? Look at him! He's green with no ears or nose, and he has hideous bug eyes! He's an alien, Dad! An alien!"

"Son, that enough!" Membrane snapped harshly, surprisingly the boy. He then sighed and said, "Dib, your bullying this child isn't a productive way to spend your time, and now your sister is hurt. Please son, just drop this alien talk."

"I should've known better than to think you would believe me," Dib spat bitterly, "Why do I even bother? I wish Grandmother had come instead of you. She believes me, and she helps me. She would help me destroy Zim before his evil plan succeeds, but you just sit there and do nothing like everybody else. And all this time I thought you would recognize what's right in front of your face, but I guess I was wrong."

Membrane didn't react on the surface, but inside he was seething. How could his own son believe harming a poor child with a medical condition was okay? How could his mother possibly encourage this disturbing behavior that included assault, stalking, and slandering a sickly kid's reputation? How long had his mother stayed in town if Dib thought she would side with him?

Zim grunted as he sat in his seat again, and Membrane briefly glanced at the green child. Membrane's heart went out to the boy. He knew what it felt like to get beaten up for looking different and being smart. He still remembered when his own bullies discovered his contacts, how humiliated and afraid he felt. How could he have raised a son that tormented other people like this?

Membrane nodded whenever the principal spoke, but he wasn't really listening anymore. His mind was swirling with anger, hurt, and accusations. He wondered if it was his own fault that Dib turned out this way. Maybe it was because of his own insistence that everything was perfect. Maybe it was because Membrane hid his unsightly condition from his own children. Maybe if Dib knew the truth about him, then he wouldn't be so cruel to others that were different.

After the principal informed Membrane that Dib was suspended for 10 days from skool, Membrane and Dib walked to the nurse's station to collect Gaz so they could go home.

When he saw Gaz, Membrane understood that the push wasn't the only reason she fell. His daughter was wearing platform boots that lifted her up nearly 7" off the ground. There was no way someone as young as Gaz would know how to walk in something like those, especially since she normally wore flats.

"Daughter, are you alright?" Membrane asked robustly in order to not sound too worried.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I guess," Gaz muttered as she looked away from him, "Stupid Dib and stupid Zim got into another stupid fight. They will _pay_."

"Oh come on Gaz, I said I was sorry!" Dib whined, "I'll make it up to you, okay?"

"Hey, children. Let's all go to Bloaty's and forget about this horrible day," Membrane suggested with a forced cheerfulness in his tone, "What do you say?"

"Bloaty's?" Gaz asked; intrigued but wary, "But today isn't our annual family night."

"I know daughter, but some time cleared up in my schedule and I thought I would surprise you and your brother," Membrane explained with a tone that was genuinely happy this time, "Come on, let's go!"

Membrane carried Gaz to the car so she wouldn't have to walk on her sprained ankle, and Dib followed them while silently stewing about being suspended. It wasn't missing skool that bothered Dib. It was the fact that even after all this time his father wouldn't hear him out about Zim. Why was it that the only one that believed him enough to help him was an elderly evil billionaire with a height fetish?

* * *

After returning home from Bloaty's Pizza Hog the Membrane family went their separate ways for the night. Gaz stayed on the couch playing her game, Dib went up to his room to monitor the spy cameras he had in Zim's house, and Professor Membrane went down to his lab in the basement.

Membrane felt that he needed to be in his lab to concentrate on the latest problem plaguing his mind. For once it was not a scientific formula, but an invasive species in his home. His mother was trying to warp his children, and he had to stop her!

Gaz told him that she wore the platform shoes so she could loom over those inferior to her. Membrane had heard those exact words growing up when his mother would discuss why she wouldn't sit in her hover chair during board meetings. Gaz was also wearing makeup and attempting to get students to do her bidding. In her own words, she was training to take over the Sweet Mother Corporation when she was old enough.

That wasn't the only problem though. Dib told his father about the other day when he and his grandmother went over to that green child's house and antagonized him. That was a low move for his mother to make. Not only was she encouraging Dib's insanity, but she also broke into someone's home and was harassing an innocent boy with a skin condition. It was as if she didn't care if Dib became a criminal.

Membrane couldn't take much more of this. Sure, he wasn't father of the year, but he knew what kind of damage his mother to do to his family if she made it her mission to do so. All his life he grew up believing he was a failed experiment; a miserable freak that had to hide himself from the world. His mother did everything in her power to make him seem normal, to keep him from standing out and embarrassing her, and to crush his dreams of being a scientist. When he left home he nurtured his own inner curiosity, but he still feared he would never be accepted for who he was.

This thought caused Membrane to turn to a drawer that he rarely opened in one of his desks. He pulled out an album that read: _College Memories_. He opened it, and there he saw the picture he was looking for; a picture of himself and Leena at a disco themed frat party.

He sighed wistfully as he stared at the photo of her in her costume. It was a red bell bottom jumpsuit, and even though the strobe lights were going he could still see the twinkle in her bright cinnamon brown eyes.

"If you were still here, maybe our children wouldn't be so miserable," Membrane said to the picture of his late wife, "I know talking to a photo is a little pointless, but it makes me feel better nonetheless. I miss you Leena, and I just want to say thank you for everything. Thank you for our lives together, thank you for our children, and thank you for seeing the man I could be. It's a good thing you existed."

Seeing that green child earlier that day and hearing about his mother's sabotage made Membrane feel like everything was spinning out of control, but oddly enough it also made him think of Leena. More specifically, it made him think of college.

* * *

Membrane and Leena were walking along the college campus late at night holding hands and looking up at the stars. They had just left a late night study session with one of their mutual friends, and both were feeling a greater appreciation for the universe and the beauty of nature.

They had been dating for three months, and things were starting to get serious. Membrane had dated a few women before Leena. Most of them were within the past couple years actually, since he didn't start getting popular until college. This wasn't like the others, however. Leena was kind yet also spoke her mind to those she knew well. She was shy, yet she had managed to gather the nerve to approach Membrane to ask him out, which he realized wasn't easy for her. The more they got to know each other, the more he realized that he loved her. He loved her mind, her body, her dark purple hair, and the look of pure admiration that she seemed to reserve only for him.

He knew he should be the happiest man in the world. He was pursuing his dream of dedicating his life to scientific research and he had a girlfriend that thought he hung the moon and knew the first 127 numbers of pi by heart. He should be happy, yet he wasn't. Despite the confidence he portrayed to the public, Membrane was actually a self-conscious man deep down. He knew he was hideous, he knew he came from the DNA of a toxic family, and he feared he didn't deserve to be loved the way Leena loved him.

"Membrane, can we sit down? My feet are getting kind of tired," Leena requested.

"Of course, sugar plum," Membrane replied agreeably.

They sat on a brick wall that separated the college's periwinkles and impatiens from the concrete walkways. A cool breeze blew through the campus, and Leena hugged Membrane for warmth. He wrapped his arms around her, and she snuggled deeper into his soft white lab coat. He would've taken it off, but he didn't want to risk losing the collar. Then again, it was dark out. Maybe he could just this once...

He took off his coat and wrapped it around Leena, and she smiled sweetly as she accepted it.

"Wow, Membrane," Leena said when she looked back at him, "I've never seen you smile before. Actually, I don't think I've ever seen your mouth before at all."

"It looks no different than anyone else's," Membrane tried to sound casual, but he still came across as defensive.

"Membrane, can I ask you a question?" Leena asked suddenly, "Do you actually like me?"

"Leena, we've been together for three months. Of course I like you!" Membrane replied; hurt she would even feel she had to ask.

"It's just that, well...You've never kissed me," Leena told him sheepishly, "I know you have a lot of options, and that maybe you don't want some shy geek for a girlfriend, but I just-"

"Leena, stop it," Membrane interrupted her firmly, "I think you are the most creative, intelligent, beautiful woman I've ever met. Any man would be lucky to have you. I just feel that the odds of us actually having a healthy long-term relationship are only 10,767 to 1."

"Oh," Leena replied morosely, "So...You like me, but not enough to be with me forever. To you I'm just a fling."

"No, it's not like that," Membrane told her in a soft tone of voice, "I just feel like you can do better. I mean, there are some very handsome guys on campus. Guys that can give you a good future filled with career opportunities, healthy happy children, in-laws and family barbecues, and...oh, Leena, I have something to confess, but I fear it could ruin me if anyone else ever found out."

"What is it, Membrane? You can tell me," Leena replied comfortingly.

"Well..." Membrane didn't know how to tell Leena his feelings, so he removed his contacts and took out a flashlight, "Please, don't be alarmed," He cautioned before handing her the light.

Membrane then gave Leena the flashlight, and with some trepidation she turned it on and shined it on Membrane's face. She could see the iridescent blue of his eyes, and then he showed her his mouth; two perfect rows of pink teeth.

"Oh, wow," Leena said with subdued surprise.

"I know, I'm a freak," Membrane lamented, "So you see, this is why I don't want you to get too attached. You can do so much better than this. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and you deserve to be happy."

Leena then took his hand in hers, and he looked down to see her staring up at him with the same look of admiration she always gave him. He was baffled. It looked as if nothing had changed.

"Membrane, I am happy," Leena whispered lovingly to him before leaning in to kiss him.

Membrane was nervous. Even though he was in college this was his first real kiss. He leaned in and guided her face to his with his hands. They allowed themselves to melt into each other's embrace, and after a moment that felt simultaneously like forever and a mere microsecond they pulled away from each other.

"Leena..." Membrane gasped breathlessly, "That...that was...it felt...Thank you."

"Wow, the great Membrane at a loss for words? Now I've seen everything," Leena remarked teasingly, "It was good for me too, by the way. That being said, your tongue is really long."

"I know..." Membrane blushed as he turned away from her, "So, you're not breaking up with me?"

"No, especially after seeing how flustered you get over the tiniest little things," Leena giggled, "I can't wait to see how you react to second base."

Membrane blushed even deeper, but then leaned in closer to Leena to rest his arm on her shoulders. She was wearing his coat, she had seen his teeth and his eyes, and she had even felt his tongue next to her own. Membrane had never felt so exposed, but at the same time he had never felt so comfortable. He could be himself, and she would love him anyway. It was the best night of his life.

...

Prof. Membrane sighed fondly at he thought back to that night. It had only been the first of many great nights in his life. Over the years bashful kisses had given way to passionate and familiar love making. She had given him two children, and they had found solace in each other's arms.

He only wished she could be there to help him now. His kids were getting into trouble, and he was facing a very difficult decision.

He didn't know what to do to help his children, but he did know the first step he would take. Prof. Membrane dialed a number and steeled himself for what was to come.

* * *

Prof. Membrane made it to the TV studio the next day to film another episode of 'Probing The Membrane of Science'. He slicked back his hair scythe as he made his way to the dressing room, knowing that someone was already waiting for him there. He just hoped he didn't lose his nerve.

When Membrane opened the door to his dressing room sure enough, he saw his mother sitting there in her hover chair in front of his vanity mirror. She was holding her false teeth in her hands and picking a piece of food out of them with her finger. Membrane couldn't help himself and made a retching sound.

"Huh? Oh, hello my little test tube munchkin," Jeem greeted her son with her trademark cold warmth.

"Mother, gross! Nobody wants to see your false teeth!" Membrane reprimanded.

Jeem then smiled at him, showing off a pink toothy zipper grin.

"Yuck, nobody wants to see your natural teeth either!" Membrane exclaimed in disgust as he averted his eyes.

"You know you should order a set of falsies," Jeem suggested, "Then you wouldn't have to wear that stuffy collar in the hot summer months. You could look more like a normal genius celebrity."

"My fashion sense is none of your business," Membrane hissed through gritted teeth, "Now, I called you here for a reason."

"And that would be?" Jeem asked coyly.

"I want you to stay away from my children," Membrane told her soberly, "You are a terrible influence on them, and I don't want you to come near my home again. Gaz got hurt because of your dangerous beauty advice, and Dib is running around like a lunatic making some poor kid's life a living nightmare. Just stay away from my family."

"Don't you mean _my_ family?" Jeem asked challengingly as her chair hovered closer into Membrane's personal space, "I made you, and you made them. Ergo, they could not exist without me. I would also like to remind you that since I made you I can also break you. So, I would think twice before sassing me again, young man."

" _They are_ _not_ _your children!_ " Membrane shouted indignantly, "I won't let you corrupt them the way you corrupt everything and everyone else in your path. My son is already on the edge, and my daughter is young and impressionable. If you come near my house again, I'm calling the police."

"Go ahead, I'll just bribe them," Jeem shrugged, "Also, as for your son, he may be the only thing standing between your town and utter chaos. The man we were infiltrating is a spy bent on the collapse of our government. I admit Dib is unqualified for this job, but he doesn't take _no_ for an answer. I went with him to keep him safe. I even had to join his stupid swelling-eyeball thing. Now if that doesn't show I care then I don't know what would."

"Oh, _please_!" Membrane shouted accusingly, "You expect me to believe any of that? Not only do I doubt your spy story, but since when have you _ever_ cared about anything other than yourself?"

"I didn't dump you on the streets when you failed me, now did I?" Jeem asked sharply, "And besides, I don't care about myself. Oh sure, I did once, but I'm so close to death by now that it hardly matters what happens to me or my company. After everything I built up and every opportunity I gave you...you end up like this. Turning science into a dog-and-pony show for the amusement of slack-jawed yokels. Turning your back on your own children and disowning your own crippled mother. _For shame_ , Membrane! I see now that this whole family thing simply wasn't worth my time. Goodbye munchkin and good luck. You won't see me again. Well, I have to go back to work now. I need to fire Bill, find his replacement, and then go over the SEO reports with my senior staff and marketing team. It's been fun, Membrane."

Jeem then pushed the control on her chair and floated out the door. Membrane quickly ran to catch up to her and yelled "Wait!"

"Ugh, what do you want _now_ , munchkin?" Jeem asked in an exasperated tone of voice.

"Why do you always say that?" Membrane inquired.

"Say what?" Jeem asked in confusion.

"You always end our conversations with 'it's been fun'," Membrane replied; his voice betraying a hurt and sadness he normally tried to hide from his domineering mother, "No matter how serious our arguments or how badly I feel you always end our conversations as if you were leaving a dinner party at the country club. You know, most parents end their conversations with their children with something like 'I love you' or 'have a good day' or 'good job'. You know Mother, I've never heard you once say that you love me."

"I've never said that to anyone. Why should I start now?" Jeem replied with a scowl.

" _Do_ you love me, Mother?" Membrane asked softly, his shoulders drooping and the repressive mental walls tearing down, "I won't judge you no matter your response, but I want an honest answer from you. Do you love me?"

Jeem squinted one eye and made the other one wider in scrutiny. It reminded Membrane of how Gaz looked when she couldn't believe how screwy someone else was behaving.

"You want an honest answer?" Jeem asked guardedly.

"Yes, Mother," Membrane sighed, "Mother...If you just said you loved me, just this once, then everything could change for us. No more arguments, no more contention, and no more secrets. We can start over. I'm willing to start again, Mother. Just tell me that you love me and that you still want me to be your son and we can start over."

"We can't start over," Jeem stated matter-of-factly, "You're a grown man, and I'm so elderly my weak little bones can no longer support my full height. Whatever we've said and done is forever imprinted on your psyche, and nothing will change that. You and I already know how we feel about each other, and that's not going to change. It's too late. It's not too late for your relationship with your children, however. Dib is 12, Gaz is 10 and will soon be 11. This is a critical time for them. This is the age when your kids decide what type of people they're going to be, and what's going to be important to them. Their morality is still developing, and you need to be there to guide them through the most difficult parts of their youth. I wasn't there for your adolescence. Don't make the same mistake I did."

With those solem words Jeem turned her wheelchair and left. Membrane wanted to go after her, to say something else, but he didn't know what to say. On the one hand, she had actually admitted a mistake, and not in a way that backhandedly blamed Membrane. That was more than she had ever done in the past. On the other hand though, she still didn't say she loved him. In fact, she gave him no answer at all. He still didn't know if she really cared about him. He had been afraid of rejection, but avoiding the question in his mind was just as bad.

More than anything Membrane wanted to sit in a dark room and wallow in his own misery. That was what he wanted to do, but what he did instead was put on some face powder and get out there to tape his show. No matter how he felt he still had responsibilities, and his heart could break while his body gesticulated on the importance of science in front of a live studio audience. Nothing stopped Membrane from getting a job done.

* * *

That night Jeem lay sprawled out on her black velour couch and looked at her black curtains hanging immobile in her parlor. All of the furniture had been moved when the formerly sunny room had been painted a dreary purple in the wake of Kloee's death. Only the new couch and curtains had been moved in so far.

Work had distracted Jeem for a little bit, but now she had time to think about her life, and she didn't like what she was seeing. Membrane had never stood up to her like that, and while she respected him on some level for that display his words also bespoke of a man that had too many burning questions on his mind.

"My poor confused son," Jeem spoke into the barren echoing chamber, "I did this to him. He shouldn't even exist. I should have never made him. I should have never allowed him to breed. He shouldn't be a father yet. He's only 39. He's probably not even finished with puberty. How long before he or his children question things? How long until Zim figures out how defenseless the governments truly are? How long until my hubris dooms this world the way it doomed the last? Do I really want to live to see this happen? Well, _do I!_?"

Jeem then picked an artificial maple syrup bottle off the ground and sucked out some of the sticky liquid. Four empty bottles littered the hardwood floors and Jeem was halfway finished with the fifth. She had discovered long ago that syrup gave her a blissful feeling that resulted in a numbed mind and a hangover in the morning. She normally wouldn't touch the stuff, but tonight it seemed appropriate.

As the syrup worked its way through her systems Jeem began to feel sleepy. She didn't sleep often, and she knew the couch would cause her back problems to get worse if she slept there, but she didn't feel like she had the strength to get back in her chair nor the mental capacity to work the controls.

She nodded off to sleep a few moments later, and her mind decided tonight it would torture her once again with her greatest success and her greatest failure...

* * *

Jeem straightened her white robe and coat as peered from behind the curtain to the audience of her peers. She was backstage at the Skrang Science Institute's theatre room and was both excited and nervous to give her final presentation. She looked in the mirror to make sure she looked okay. Her green skin was a little pale from lack of star light, and her back was a little curved, but otherwise she looked fine.

Young Jeem had recently visited the doctor for the great annual checkup every Irken was expected to attend this time of year, and had discovered to her great shock and amazement that she was now 7'4". After a long and arduous process of calculating the measurements of everyone on Irk, the advisors had figured out that there were two Irkens of the exact same height of 7'4", which meant that for the first time in history there would be two ruling Tallests.

Jeem had wanted to be Tallest ever since she was a little smeet roaming about the colony. Now that she had it however, she wasn't as happy as she thought she'd be. Oh sure, she wanted the power and the ability to make positive change for her people, but as a member of the scientific caste she had already given the world so much. She knew her latest project would be her magnum opus and would change the world, but she feared as Tallest she wouldn't be able to properly oversee the final stages of development on her life's work.

She also worried about the fact that she would have a co-ruler. What if the other Tallest wanted more influence than Jeem? What if they were incompetent? What if they grew a quarter inch and dethroned Jeem? Where would she go then?

It didn't help Jeem's nerves at all when she did some research on her co-Tallest. The other one was also female, her name was Kloee, and she worked as a baker in the southern continent. A member of the food service caste hadn't been a Tallest in over 1,000 years, and for good reason. Fat Irkens usually didn't get to be that tall, and food service drones were generally uneducated nitwits. Jeem didn't like the idea of sharing the throne with some unqualified donut-stuffer.

"Jeem?" A smaller colleague, Borb if she remembered his name correctly, called for her attention, "Um, may I still call you Jeem? Um, you're on in two minutes."

"Thank you," Jeem replied in a poised tone of voice, "Is the project ready?"

"Yes, ma'am. It's under the tarp just like you ordered," Borb replied with a slight bow, "I hope you do well, My Tallest."

That was something else Jeem had to get used to. Despite her height she had always been an equal to her peers in the technical and scientific community, but now everyone was treating her differently. They all knew that next week she would be sworn in as Tallest, and suddenly it was as if she were some precious treasure that had to be handled with care. It was a little annoying if she were to be honest.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the elite scientific caste," The announcer intoned into the microphone, "Our final presentation of the night is a special one, as it is being given by one of our most distinguished inventors and future Tallest of Irk, please wiggle your antennae in approval for Jeem!"

Jeem, hearing her cue, stepped out to give her presentation. She smiled and waved at the crowd as she walked onto the stage, and the crowd erupted in boistrous cheers. Jeem was surprised so many Irkens had come to the presentation, but then again for many of them it was a rare chance to see a Tallest in a public setting. She knew from now on her every move would be watched and obsessively photographed by the media, but she kept her composure despite these daunting thoughts. Being a Tallest might be the greatest achievement for most, but she knew her latest invention would literally change the world; cementing her as the greatest scientist to ever live.

"Thank you, my esteemed colleagues and honored guests," Jeem greeted respectfully, "My name is Jeem, though many of you at the university already know me. Next week I will rule as Tallest, but for now I do not address you as a politician. I address you as my friends and my equals. You are the rare audience that can truly appreciate the miracle that I am going to present to you today. Do I sound like I'm exaggerating? Well my fellow Irkens, I'm not. What I am going to give you is immortality, eternal historical accuracy, unrivaled intellect, and genetically perfected bodies all in one! My new invention will forever change medicine, record keeping, organization, aging, and social interaction. Allow me to be the very first to demonstrate the future of Irken development..."

Jeem then removed her lab coat and robe. She stood before the entire committee in nothing but a pair of pants and a pair of shoes. Her deep purple eyes scanned the crowd and her curled antennae twitched in a brief moment of nervousness before she collected herself and continued her demonstration despite being topless in front of an entire group of her peers. She turned around, and the audience gasped when they saw that her back had been mutilated and there were two tubes sticking out.

"You may be wondering where this is going," Jeem chuckled goodnaturedly to ease the tension, "Borb, hand me the PAK."

Borb then came onto the stage holding a steel half-orb device with three large purple circles dotting the edges. The device turned itself on when it sensed Jeem's implants and suddenly it snaked out two wires; attaching itself to the tall scientist.

The crowd gasped in horror as they watched the strange device clamp itself onto Jeem, but she barely flinched as her new toy embedded itself into her spine.

"This, my colleagues, is called a PAK," Jeem explained, "Once this device is installed into an Irken body the mind can be instantly filled with all knowledge of our history as well as any skills necessary for an individual Irken's caste. You want scientists? Boom! You can program them from smeethood! You wants soldiers? Done! Service drones? Done! Engineers? You've got it! An adult Irken can change the code to instantly give them whatever information they need to perform a new task. This little beauty will eliminate the inefficient education systems we are using now and help smeets to be mostly independent and ready to work from birth. The PAK can also supply nutrients, allowing the user to live for hundreds, maybe even thousands of years longer than before. Many of you could live to see 10 or 12 generations if you install the PAK. I will now take questions from the audience."

An Irken near the front row raised his hand, and Jeem gestured for him to continue.

"Um, how risky is changing an Irken's body chemistry and bone structure to support such a device?" He asked skeptically.

"This method has been tested on animals until the installation process has been perfected," Jeem assured him, "I would not have submitted myself to the necessary surgery for my own PAK if I didn't believe it was safe. As for dependency, what does it matter? The average Irken only lives for 150 years right now, but with the PAK Irkens will no longer age and could potentially live for thousands of years."

Another hand was raised in the middle row, and Jeem gestured for them to ask their question.

"Yes, you said this PAK thing could download all Irken knowledge and supply the body with enough nutrients to make them practically immortal," The audience member pointed out, "My question is, how does one regulate such a device? Is it battery powered, or is it powered by the Irken's own body? What kind of maintenance would be required for a PAK?"

"A very good question, good sir," Jeem replied with a grin, "First of all the nutrients in the PAK are made by recycling whatever food is ingested in the body, so it will not eliminate the need to eat completely. It will however eliminate the need for sleep. It is indeed regulated using a combination of its homing beacon and the Irken's own internal organs. The PAK becomes a fully integrated part of the user, like a second brain almost. No one wonders why the brain works without batteries, right? Also, some routine maintenance would be required from time to time, which is why I have installed my knowledge of fast PAK repair into the database."

"Yes, and where exactly is this database?" The audience member asked again.

Jeem's smile grew wider then. This was really the part of the project she had been waiting to show off. She stepped over to a tarp covering an object that nearly encompassed the entire stage and placed her claws on the cloth in anticipation.

"I'm so glad you asked," Jeem lilted; her full mad scientist mode trying to bubble up to the surface, "The PAK is only half of my new invention. The other half is the group regulator and master database. My fellow scientists, artificial intelligence is finally here, and it is the key to the future of Irk! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you..." She pulled away the tarp then, revealing the metal orb with many red lights staring like eyes, "...the Control Brains!"


	9. Blastoff of Doom!

Chapter 9

Blastoff of Doom!

Zim was fat and miserable after weeks of the Tallests sending him gruel and other disgusting food stuffs. He finally took off the sweater, but kept it around so he could wear it during transmissions to or from the Tallests. He didn't want them thinking he didn't appreciate their gift to him. Still, he knew he'd lose all his skin if he kept wearing that horrible thing.

His latest plan of using mind control chips on the faculty at his skool had hit a snag when he lost the circuit board to his mind control remote. Zim searched for the circuit board for hours before he finally got tired of looking and decided that plan was stupid anyway. After that Zim still had a few more hours before skool started again, so he went down to the lab and worked on fixing that Irken PAK beacon locator Gir had spilled cake batter into.

It had taken days of cleaning and weeks of rewiring in Zim's spare time, but after so much time spent working on the thing he was finally finished repairing the locator.

Zim tested the locator by having it zero in on his own PAK. Sure enough, it showed the signal at his house beeping away, and he smiled in triumph that his device worked properly again. He knew it wouldn't pick anything up, but just to be sure he set the locator for a planet-wide search.

Much to Zim's shock however, he actually got a signal! He searched for specifics, and found that the signal was coming from a city on the same land mass he was on; humans called them _countries_ if he remembered correctly. Zim then used the earth's Internet to find out all he could about what kind of area the unknown Irken was located in, and silently hoped it wasn't a military base. If it was a military base it either meant that the stranger was in trouble or that someone was trying to gather information and steal his mission.

"This better not be Tak again," Zim muttered to himself as he waited for the download of the map to appear.

A few minutes later the information finished loading. Apparently the signal was coming from a gated community called Exclusive Arms.

"Gated? Why would the humans lock up entire neighborhoods?" Zim pondered, "Unless...unless it's a prison for criminally insane humans! Oh no! It's worse than I thought! An Irken soldier has been captured and is currently being held in a secret military lunatic prison!"

"No one said it was a secret," The computer pointed out.

"Silence!" Zim ordered, "I have to find whoever has been captured, rescue them, and report back to the Tallests. For all I know it could be a usurper to my mission, or a member of the armada, or maybe even-"

" _Turkey_!" Gir suddenly shouted from behind Zim.

"YAH! Gir! Don't do that!" Zim snapped as he held a claw to his chest and caught his breath from the shock, "Alright Gir, now this is very important. We're going to take the voot cruiser to a gated prison community to rescue a fellow Irken. I need you to be on your best behavior for our new mission. Understand?"

"I wanna meet Poop Dawg!" Gir exclaimed randomly, "He wears a smelly dog costume just like me!"

"Gir! Focus!" Zim screamed in irritation, "Now, meet me at the voot cruiser. I'm going to gather some weapons for our mission."

"Oooohhh!" Gir's optics went wide with wonder, and then he said, " _A mission_. I wanna phone home like the wrinkly guy! Then go see Poop Dawg!"

Zim sighed and then set to work packing laser pistols, a medical kit, a guidance chip for Gir (because he couldn't trust the robot with it) and anything else he would need for the journey. Zim wasn't going to be caught unprepared. Whoever this Irken was, they would know that they stood before the mighty Invader Zim.

* * *

Dib couldn't believe how unfair his dad was being. What kind of father forbids contact between his kids and their own grandmother? Dib knew the feelings he had about the situation couldn't be normal. The old battle axe had only been in his life for a month, and yet Dib felt like he was being denied something by not being allowed to talk to her.

It was hard for Dib to figure out why this mattered to him. She wasn't even a nice person. His dad had every reason to dislike her. Even Dib had reasons to not like her, and yet he still did. She listened to him when he talked about aliens. She helped him when he needed backup. She believed him and was on his side.

Simply put, she was Dib's friend, and that was something Dib had never had before. He came close to being friends with Gaz, but she belittled and hurt him often so he wasn't sure if it actually counted. He didn't care if his best friend had to be his scary sister or his scary grandmother, that was all he had in his life and he didn't want to lose it.

"I've got to do something about this," Dib decided.

Dib had to think for a few minutes. His dad had deleted her number from all the cell phones in the house as well as the land line, and Dib had never memorized it. He couldn't just go to her house. It was a four hour bus ride to get to her mansion, and even at that she'd probably just drive him back home. Then he remembered something...the Swollen Eyeball Network. His grandmother had joined the Swollen Eyeballs! He could call them, and they could call her.

He quickly got out his floating computer screen and started dialing the number, hoping they would be able to contact her for him.

"This is Agent Darkbootie," The titular agent answered, "What do you have for us, Agent Mothman?"

"Um, I don't have anything at the moment, but I need to speak to Agent Long Legs," Dib replied quickly, "Can you get her on the phone?"

"Agent Mothman, you shouldn't use the Swollen Eyeball tie-in line for social calls," Agent Darkbootie reprimanded Dib.

"I know! _I know_! But I don't have any other way of contacting her. Please?" Dib asked as nicely as he could manage despite his impatience.

"Can't get a hold of her? I was under the impression that she was your mother," Agent Darkbootie replied with a hint of concern in his voice.

"Grandmother, actually, and yes she is," Dib corrected him.

Darkbootie didn't understand why Dib couldn't get in touch with his own grandmother, but he felt bad for the junior paranormal investigator and decided to call Agent Long Legs for him. Tying up her line was no big loss anyway, since the only investigating she had done so far was whether or not those radioactive pigs in Russia had been contained. They had not.

Jeem was on her stretching machine with Klaus monitoring her when her maid came in with a floating view screen.

"Madame Jeem, there is an Agent Darkbootie on the phone for you," The maid told her in a drab monotone voice.

"Klaus...Cut my session...short!" Jeem grunted through the pain of having her bones forced apart by gravity, "Evon, I will take the call...in here."

Klaus turned off the machine and helped Jeem back onto her hover chair. She was still gasping for breath and every part of her was in pain when the shadowy concealed visage of Agent Darkbootie appeared on the view screen.

"Agent Long Legs, Agent Mothman wishes to speak with you," Agent Darkbootie informed her.

Jeem nodded once to confirm she would speak with him, and the screen shifted to a concealed shadowy face with a much larger head and scythe hair. It could only be her grandson.

"You realize your father will kill you and call the police on me, right?" Jeem asked Dib with a slight bit of humor to her tone.

"I don't care, he can't tell me what to do or who to like," Dib replied firmly, "So, how has your plan to drive Zim off the planet been going?"

"Terribly," Jeem admitted, "No matter what I do to him he is still insanely loyal to his leaders. I was hoping my cruelty and passive aggressive attention would deprogram him, but so far nothing has worked. I don't understand. I'm doing everything I did to make Membrane hate me, so why isn't it working on the drone?"

"Did you make Dad hate you on purpose?" Dib asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"Of course not, munchkin," Jeem assured him, "However, I cannot help but notice the results of my parenting style. He hates me, I'm not overly fond of him, and everything has blown up in my face. When I die he'll probably donate my body to science, and then science will insist on slicing it up like pastrami on rye. Stupid science..." The last part she muttered under her breath like a pouting child.

"Um, we're getting off track here," Dib called her attention back to the present, "We need a new plan to stop Zim."

"Oh, yes of course," Jeem replied distractedly, "Perhaps you could, um, observe him some more. Yes, then you will understand his weaknesses better. I'm sure you'll make the human race very proud, munchkin."

"Well...I was hoping for a more hands-on idea but, okay," Dib replied disappointedly, "So, um...how was work today?"

"Good. I hired a new vice chairman. His name is Bug, and he has some great ideas for expanding in the gift basket market," Jeem replied, though clearly she was confused as to why Dib cared, "So...how was skool?"

"I'm passing all of my classes with near perfect scores," Dib shrugged, "Honestly it's such a waste of time, but at least it's a neutral ground where I can spy on Zim. Other than that I don't see the point. Too bad I'm not old enough to take an equivalency test so I can just move on to college or something."

"College is an expensive high skool, nothing more," Jeem scoffed, and Dib raised an eyebrow again, "Unless you want to be a medical doctor you don't need college. Wait, _are_ you going to be a medical doctor?"

"No," Dib replied.

"Then you're fine," Jeem waved away the idea of college, "Anyway, I've gotta go now. I usually drink something after my workout and right now I'm parched. I'm glad you called me though. It was fun."

"Yeah, goodbye Grandmother," Dib replied as he started to hang up.

"Wait!" Jeem suddenly shouted, and Dib hesitated by the button that would drop the call, "Um, Dib munchkin, I just want you to know that...I...I would be very upset if you died before I do."

"Oh. Okay," Dib replied in awkward confusion, "I'll try not to."

"Good," Jeem nodded curtly, "You're a good grandson and a brave soldier for the fight against the Irken machine. I...ilvygrsn."

Dib didn't hear the last thing his grandmother mumbled before she hung up the phone. Jeem was surprised at how hard it was to say something so mundane, but she had never considered whether or not she could feel it let alone say it. Still, she had said it for the first time in her life, and even if Dib didn't understand it she had finally told someone she loved them.

* * *

Zim took the voot to the gated community to retrieve the Irken located by the beacon device. Gir was driving, which Zim worried was a bad idea, but so far the insane little robot had only crashed the voot once, and that was when he wanted a taco and decided to ram into the Crazy Taco drive-thru.

Zim had to narrow the locator's perimeters in order to determine which building the Irken was being held in. Every building in this locked away complex was huge, which gave credence to Zim's theory that the entire neighborhood was a prison where they kept top secret POWs. Perhaps this was where earth housed all aliens they discovered. If so, there might be some cool weapons for Zim to steal.

The locator indicated which house contained the PAK signal, and Zim noted that despite how dark it was that night that this particular house used floodlights to illuminate the entire compound like a runway. The house was yellow with white trim, and there appeared to be soda spouting from the fountain. There were so many cars in the expansive garage. This place looked like it housed an army, and Zim was ready just in case it did.

Zim lowered himself onto the roof using a bungee cable. At first everything was going smoothly, but then Gir jerked the steering controls and the motion forced Zim to ram hard into the chimney top! Zim shook himself alert and then glowered up at Gir, who was tuning the radio in to some electronica channel.

Once Zim disconnected himself from the cable he crawled into the chimney and fell down into the room below. Zim's body hurt from the harsh fall, but he was grateful to at least be inside the mysterious prison with no immediate consequences. Unfortunately for Zim, his luck never stayed good for long.

INTRUDER ALERT! CHIMNEY PENETRATION! GET YOUR FAT JOLLY BUTT OUT OF OUR HOUSE!

Jeem, who had been asleep on the other side of the house, awoke to the sounds of an archaic alarm she forgot had been put in place.

"What the-? Argh! _Membrane_!" Jeem yelled at her son even though he wasn't there and had set that alarm years ago when he was still a child, "Wait a minute. What fell down our chimney? Oh for crying out loud! It's probably just a stupid raccoon or something. Oh well, better get a blunt force instrument..."

Zim, meanwhile, was sure that alarm meant death traps and men with guns were coming to get him. He would have to find his fellow Irken quickly if he was going to get out of this alive. He ran out of the living room he was in and down a long winding hallway. He saw a man walking down the hallway and hid behind a conveniently placed houseplant. The man grunted under his breath before turning off the chimney alarm and skulking away. Zim waited for him to leave and then breathed a sigh of relief.

Cautiously Zim snuck around in the halls and different rooms in search of where they kept the alien prisoners in this place. Zim had received much training on Irk regarding prisoners of war and rescue missions, but knowledge of human movies told him that crazed killers kept their victims in the basement. If he was going to find the Irken, he would have to find the basement.

The basement was harder to find than Zim originally thought. Fortunately the area didn't seem to have too many guards on duty. He thought that it would be like the movies where there was usually a secret passage in the walls or a button hidden in a statue or something. He spent several minutes testing this theory, all to no avail. Finally after knocking over bookcases and busts in search of a secret passageway, Zim came across an elevator.

 _No way, it's too easy!_ Zim thought. _Surely even the humans aren't that stupid!_

As it turned out yes, it really was that easy. There was a button at the bottom of the elevator labeled BASEMENT, and all Zim had to do was stand on his PAK legs to reach it. The elevator went down to the lower level, and Zim hummed to himself while he waited. He had gotten so used to hearing music in elevators on earth that it felt eerie that this one was silent, so he hummed to drive away the disquiet this quiet caused in him.

Once the doors opened, Zim was taken aback by how clean and sterile this place looked and smelled. It wasn't like the lemony fake clean smells he normally smelled on earth. This was an actual absence of offensive odor, and there wasn't a single speck of dust to be found on this entire level. Even the shiny steel curved walls felt inviting to the Irken soldier, as it seemed to be built with comfort and style in mind. Then Zim remembered this was likely a prison and shuddered. How could a place of misery look so pretty and calm?

There were many closed-off rooms to explore, and Zim's locator couldn't narrow down the Irken's PAK signals precisely enough to be of help. Zim would have to open every door until he found the Irken.

The first room looked like some kind of control center. The interior was colored in pinks, reds, and purples. There was a console at the far end of the room and a joystick on a platform in the center of the room. There were comfortable chairs clearly meant for the full height of a human adult or equally tall species and pictures that displayed various functions for things throughout the room. Zim scowled, knowing that with the frivolous nature of humans it was probably just a game room or something.

The second room Zim went into looked like a simple medical bay. There were two cots for patients to lay down on, cabinets for medicine, and an X-Ray machine. Zim gulped, wondering if this was also where alien prisoners were tortured. He shut the door quickly and moved on to the next room.

The next room caused Zim to gasp in shock. There was absolutely nothing but dark steel walls in the room, all except for a grouping of spotlights that shone on a display case, and in that display case was a disconnected Irken PAK.

Zim shambled closer to the PAK, barely able to move, and stared at it in shock and revulsion. The humans had not only managed to kill an Irken, but had also kept their PAK as some sort of disgusting trophy! Zim was outraged, and he would make whoever killed this Irken pay, but first he needed to know exactly how worth avenging this particular Irken was.

Carefully, Zim cut the glass separating him from the inert PAK. He sweated in nervousness and hoped another stupid alarm wouldn't go off. He managed to remove the PAK without complication, and exhaled in relief. He then took out his portable computer and uplinked it with the PAK. He would've simply uplinked his own PAK, but for all he knew the former owner of this PAK could've been defective, and he didn't want to catch whatever viruses might be in there.

"Computer, identify the designation in the PAK," Zim ordered before looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was going to sneak up on him.

The computer, being an older model, was too limited for voice response. Instead it displayed the answer in Irken text. Zim looked down at the handheld device, and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw the words on the screen.

"No! This cannot be!" Zim exclaimed in shock, "I must get this to the Tallests immediately!"

Zim, suddenly protective of the PAK he held, hugged it closer to his chest and looked around frantically for enemies. He had to get this PAK back to his base immediately before those filthy dirt monsters tried to take it again. Once he informed the Tallests he was coming he would take the PAK back to the Massive where it belonged. No longer worried about subtlety, Zim blasted a hole in the ceiling and through several floors of the house. He then used his spider legs to crawl up the holes he had made so he could return to the voot.

Jeem heard the commotion coming from a few rooms away. She hovered over to where the hole was on the fourth floor just in time to see Zim climb up her floors and ceilings and into his ship. She also caught a glimpse of what he was holding...

"Oh crud! I've been robbed!" Jeem shouted as she helplessly watched the voot shoot off into the sky, "You won't get away with this, drone! You hear me? I will hunt you down and feed you my butler!"

* * *

It was the wee hours of the morning when Dib awoke after a fitful half-night's sleep. Ever since he was a little kid he had often been plagued by nightmares, and this night was no exception. This time he dreamt his mouth had been sewn shut and he couldn't tell his family that Zim was planting dynamite around their house. When he woke up he had to turn on his surveillance cameras in Zim's house just to make sure the alien wasn't planning something evil.

He had recently managed to get a webcam into Zim's lab, but it never saved footage. It was more or less for Dib's peace of mind than to prove Zim's existence. When he checked the camera he saw that Zim was talking to his leaders, so Dib turned on the sound in hopes of learning something crucial.

"-serious?" The purple one asked, though Dib couldn't tell what he had been saying before.

"As serious as a spooch attack, My Tallest," Zim replied, his voice surprisingly impassioned and angry, "Permission to travel to the Massive with the PAK, My Tallest?"

"Permission granted," The red one growled, "If what you say is true then we have to destroy the earth as quickly as possible."

"And if you're lying we'll have to destroy _you_ as quickly as possible," The purple one warned Zim with a hint of glee in his tone.

"I'll depart for the Massive as soon as possible, My Tallest," Zim bowed humbly before his leaders, "Don't worry, I'll protect this PAK with my life."

"You'd better," Red grumbled.

"Invader Zim, signing off," Zim saluted before cutting the transmission to the flagship.

Dib couldn't believe what he was seeing. After over a year of fighting Zim and observing him, after all this time of thwarting his evil schemes, it was all coming down to this moment. The armada was actually coming to earth, and they were going to destroy everything. Dib had secretly believed Zim had been lying about that, but now he knew the end was near. He had to stop Zim once and for all!

Wasting no time, Dib grabbed his trench coat, his boots, and his backpack and took off like a jet to Zim's house. He didn't even bother to change out of his pajamas. If he was going to stop the evil alien monster then this was his last chance to do it.

Just as Dib was approaching the creepy house at the end of the cul de sac where Zim lived, he realized that if something went wrong he would need backup. If he didn't make it out then he would need someone else to thwart Zim and the armada. He considered calling Agent Darkbootie, but lately Darkbootie had been brushing him off. Apparently he had never gotten over what had been dubbed 'the waffle incident'. No, the only one left that would take his call would be his grandmother, which meant he would have to wake her up.

Dib took out his cellphone and noted that the time was 4:22 AM. He took a deep breath and hit the tracer in his phone so he could hack the number from the Swollen Eyeball Network. When you got hung up on as many times as Dib did it paid off to have some extra equipment in the phone.

"Hello?" Jeem answered after two rings; her voice sounding awake and alert.

"Grandmother," Dib whispered into the phone, "I just went through the window to Zim's house. He's going to his home planet to send for the armada, and I'm going to stop him. Stay on the line and record this in case something goes wrong."

"Record? What? No, Dib! You get out of there this instant! Abort!" Jeem demanded, "Are you listening to me young, man? _Abort the mission_!"

"Sorry Grandmother, but this is the fate of the world we're talking about," Dib replied resolutely.

Dib then held the phone away from his ear as his grandmother started yelling at him to turn around and go back. Dib took the toilet/elevator up to the top floor of the house knowing that was where Zim's voot was parked. He would wait for his arch nemesis there and do whatever it took to stop him. When he put the phone back to his ear his grandmother was still yelling.

"-as if he ever listened to me either!" Jeem went on in her tirade, "I don't know which side made him so stubborn but-"

"Grandmother," Dib interrupted, "I got an aluminum baseball bat and a bottle of water in my backpack. This could be a fight to the death. If I don't make it out, tell Dad and Gaz I love them."

"A _bat_ and a _water bottle_?" Jeem shouted incredulously, "You're going up against a battle-hardened soldier with a bat and a water bottle!? Womb-munchkin, you get out of that house right now or I'm coming to get you. I'm not joking Dib, you need to leave, _now_!"

"Shh! I think I hear him," Dib whispered as he ducked behind the voot, "I'm leaving the phone on, but stay quiet."

Jeem wanted to yell at Dib some more, but she knew his best hope for survival was for her to listen to him, so she shut her mouth and waited.

After several tense seconds, Jeem could hear Zim shouting something at Dib over the line. Dib shouted something back, and soon there were crashing noises over the phone. Jeem could barely make anything out, and the fight lasted for several minutes. She heard laser fire and blunt force, but that didn't really tell her who was winning.

Finally, Jeem heard one final thwack, and the sound of someone falling. She waited tensely to find out who won, when she heard a sickeningly familiar voice in the distance on the line.

"Oh, how the pathetic have fallen," Zim taunted Dib condescendingly; his voice grainy through the cell phone speaker, "Oh don't worry Dib-worm, I won't kill you. I'll reserve that privilege for my Tallests. I'm sure they'll enjoy a souvenir from earth..."

Jeem then heard the sound of Dib's body, conscious or not she couldn't tell, being dragged across the ground and loaded into the voot. The last sound she heard before she hung up the phone was the roaring of the voot's engines as it took off into the sky. Dib was gone, Zim had taken him, and Jeem was the only witness.


	10. Rescue Mission Part I

_Author's Notes: For this part of the story I decided to divide the plot line into two chapters. This way I can get the chapter out faster to you guys! Things should really start picking up in the story now, and I'll do my best to keep the balance between dramatic tension and comedy. Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoy this chapter of Sweet Mother :)_

* * *

Chapter 10

Rescue Mission of Recklessness!

Part I

It was 6:00 AM at the Membrane household. Professor Membrane was up early making breakfast for him and Gaz. Gaz had informed Membrane that Dib spent the night at his little foreign friend's house, and Membrane was glad that his son had decided to patch things up with the little green fellow.

Normally Membrane would hole himself up in his lab in the basement to work on that new antivirus or else be in the lab downtown working on it, but this morning he decided he wanted to try to bond with his daughter. His mother had hit a nerve when she told him to be there for his kids while they were still young, and even though he never wanted to see the old bat again he still couldn't help but feel ashamed that he had neglected his own children the way she had neglected him.

"Hey Dad," Gaz greeted him blandly as she sat down for breakfast, her game still in her hands, "What did you make?"

"Good morning daughter!" Membrane greeted her with too much enthusiasm for so early in the morning, "I made vitamin-infused cheese omelettes and mocha chinos. Caffeine is good for a child's energy levels and overall mood, after all."

Gaz laughed once at the comment, but didn't bother to correct him. One thing she had figured out from listening to other kids talk about their parents is that whatever common knowledge said was good for children, Membrane would usually say the opposite. She didn't know if her father was a genius at parenting or the worst, but either way it kept life interesting.

Gaz was looking forward to the omelette since her father was such a good cook. She hadn't realized until she learned about her dad's upbringing, but he had probably learned to cook from his Aunt Kloee since she was considered a cooking maestro. She wondered if Dib would show up in time for leftovers, but then chuckled to herself when she realized there would be no leftovers.

Only a couple bites into their meal and there was a fierce banging on the front door, and Gaz growled at the fact that they had been so abruptly interrupted.

"The door's unlocked, Dib!" Gaz shouted furiously; believing it was her stupid brother being stupid.

The door was flung open, and Jeem burst through the living room in her hover chair. Membrane bolted up from his seat and stormed into the room; ready for a confrontation.

"Mother, what are you doing-?" Membrane started, but was cut off by...

"Would you look at this lamp?" Jeem scoffed as she examined the Membrane-shaped lamp that sat on a shelf, "You must be quite the narcissist to keep a lamp with your face on it in your own home."

"It's just merchandise from my TV show!" Membrane shouted defensively.

"Yes, but it _is_ in your house," Jeem retorted.

"Get out, Mother..." Membrane growled as he pointed to the still open front door.

"Oh, right. Now I remember why I'm here," Jeem lightly shook her head to clear the mental fog, but then suddenly shouted "Dib's been taken prisoner!"

"What?" Membrane asked in disbelief.

"What are you talking about, Grandmother?" Gaz asked when she walked into the room, her game turned off but still in her hand.

"I heard the whole thing," Jeem explained; shaken up just thinking about it again, "Dib has been captured by an Irken invader and is currently being transported their flagship in deep space. They're probably going to kill him since murder and genocide is kind of a hobby of theirs now."

"A hobby of whose?" Membrane asked; more confused than worried at this point.

"The Irkens," Jeem repeated before she let out a sharp sigh, "They're an advanced alien race from the planet Irk, and apparently they suck now. Many civilizations have been destroyed by these monsters, and now they have your son. I can probably track Dib's bio-signature due to its unique nature, but I don't have a working ship to follow them in."

"Wait Mother, _aliens_?" Membrane asked skeptically, "Little space men that blow up planets? But you were the one that said no alien race intelligent enough to get to earth could possibly exist."

"Ugh, I was _lying_!" Jeem replied as if it should have been obvious to him, "The world isn't ready for that kind of information, and as long as humanity is too stupid to solve sub-light space travel then I assumed no one would ever find us. Clearly I was wrong and now earth is a target, but that's not important right now. Our family has been threatened and one of its members captured. We need a mode of travel if we're going to save Dib's life and bloody the nonexistent noses of those brobdingnagian showboating neolates!"

"Dib has a spaceship," Gaz mentioned offhandedly, "It's in the garage."

Membrane was stammering still trying to wrap his head around what was going on. On the one hand if his mother was telling the truth then his only son had been abducted by aliens and was probably being experimented on like in those cheesy science fiction movies. On the other hand if she had contracted whatever made Dib crazy then his son was still missing without an explanation. With no way yet to refute his mother's claim he followed Gaz and Jeem to the garage.

When he got there he saw Gaz throw a tarp to the side and reveal a small yet still menacing looking vehicle of some sort. It was maroon colored with a magenta glass top (or at least it looked like glass) with legs protruding on either side like some sort of mangled crab. Did Dib build this? It had metal surrounding it that didn't look like it had come from anywhere on earth. Most people would've missed that, but Membrane knew the periodic table by heart and knew that what he was seeing was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

"That's it?" Jeem asked, far less impressed than Membrane, "It's so _small_. How are we all supposed to fit in there?"

"I'm not going," Gaz snorted rudely.

"Oh, yes you are," Jeem replied in a firm no-nonsense tone, "Your father and I are going into an intergalactic war zone and might never come back. There's no way you're staying home alone for that long. Get in the ship."

Gaz grunted in protest but ultimately did as she was told. Jeem and Membrane had a significantly harder time piling into the small battleship since they were both not only adults but exceptionally tall. By the time everyone was in the ship Jeem was in the pilot's chair with her knees practically in her mouth, Membrane was sitting next to her huddled into a ball trying not to accidentally touch any of the interactive screens, and Gaz had claimed the roomiest spot in the back of the cockpit, so she was the only one who was comfortable.

"Okay, let's see here...This looks like the ignition screen..." Jeem muttered under her breath as she tried to familiarize herself with the controls.

Jeem activated the ignition but not the warm-up procedures, so the ship took off at breakneck speed through the garage roof and out into the atmosphere! Everyone was screaming, and before long they were flying through space to rescue Dib. If only any of them were qualified to do so.

* * *

The first thing Dib registered when he woke up was pain. His head hurt, and his wrists and ankles hurt too. He tried to open his eyes, but he was just so tired. He tried to wipe the sleep out of his eyes, but realized that his arms were shackled to a cold hard metal table. So were his legs.

Upon realizing this, Dib's eyes shot open and the first thing he saw was the grinning face of Zim's robot henchman Gir.

"Hi, Suzie!" Gir squealed in delight, "Master, the big head boy's awake!"

" _My head's not big!_ Ow..." Dib screamed at the insult, but then felt the throbbing in his head from the scream, "Whatever you're planning this time Zim, you won't get away with it. Not as long as there's breath in my body will I let you take over the earth!"

"That can be remedied," Zim replied in a surprisingly casual tone, but then came the taunting, "Poor little Dib, all alone in the cold vacuum of space. Face it, you've lost _earth-monkey._ As we speak the voot cruiser is heading for the Massive, and soon I will present you to my Tallests as the first of many human slaves. Who knows? Maybe if you amuse them enough they might keep you alive for a few years. Until then though you are helpless and I can do whatever I want with you."

"W-What are you planning, you evil space monster?" Dib asked, the weight of his situation finally hitting him, "What are you going to do!?"

" _Silence_!" Zim snapped, but then just as quickly reverted back to his casual tone, "I had several ideas in mind for how to handle this most glorious of moments. I considered dissecting you as you had planned to do to me..."

Dib gulped at the idea.

"...I had also considered dunking you repeatedly in a concoction of Gir's he calls 'chicken head surprise'," Zim continued.

"I like chicken dookie!" Gir exclaimed enthusiastically.

Dib cringed at the less deadly but still horrible idea.

"But then I realized that this would be a chance to test my most diabolical psychological weapon of all," Zim purred as he steepled his fingers in malicious glee, and Dib quivered in fear, "For the next 5 hours, you will be subjected to my virtual interface helmet, more specifically a program that has been especially devised as the worst thing a human being can possibly experience! Mwahahahaha!"

" _Nooooo_!" Dib screamed as he fought against the restraints, but all to no avail.

"YES!" Zim howled maniacally, "Oh, it took me a while to figure out the most horrifying thing a human could endure, but I finally figured out the answer when researching human myths and folklore. Prepare for simulated eternal torment!"

Zim then quickly slammed the helmet on Dib's head and activated it with relish. Dib saw the world fizzle out and replaced with a new one. He dreaded whatever twisted nightmare Zim could come up with. He had been through such a device before when Zim wanted to find out whether Dib threw a muffin at him or not, so Dib knew the simulation would feel as tangible as reality itself.

The area was replaced by a perfectly normal looking hallway. The only difference was that there were no doors and the hallway seemed to go on forever on both sides. It was warmer here than on the ship, and Dib was at least grateful he wouldn't freeze. Still, what kind of horror could lurk in this endless empty hallway?

"Enjoying yourself, Dib?" Zim's taunting voice came from everywhere and yet nowhere all at the same time, "As you can see I have researched your simple human culture and devised a perfect simulation of your people's idea of terror itself. Welcome to HALL!"

"This is it?" Dib asked skeptically, "What's so scary about a stupid hallway?"

"Foolish Dib," Zim tutted as if he were speaking to a toddler, "Hall is the place of eternal torment, a place where the souls of your species' condemned must reside forever in heat and anguish! Mwahahaha!"

"That's _Hell_ , you idiot," Dib muttered as he crossed his arms and sat down on the floor.

"Eh?" Zim asked in confusion.

"The mythical place of eternal torment is called Hell, not Hall," Dib corrected Zim with a dry tone, "Hell is supposed to be a place of fire and brimstone and pitchforks and stuff. This is just an empty hallway. You screwed up again."

"Grrrr!" Zim growled angrily and balled his fists as he looked at the screen with the simulated form of the bored child, " _Fine_! You want scary, I'll give you scary! Prepare your organs for jiggly fear-induced expulsion, puny worm baby!"

Zim then quickly typed in some code, and Dib found himself transported to the woods at night with a small campfire burning in front of him. He was a little worried at first fearing that Zim might have programmed some dangerous wild animals, but after hearing nothing for a few minutes Dib just shrugged his shoulders and sat down by the campfire.

"Hey, stop resting!" Zim shouted at Dib, "You're supposed to be suffering, you giant-headed dookie... _head_!"

"But nothing's happening," Dib replied as if that should be obvious.

"But there's a fire, just like in Hull!" Zim argued.

"It's _Hell_ , and you just can't admit that you have no idea what I'm talking about!" Dib pointed an accusing finger at the simulated sky, not really knowing where Zim's cameras were located; if anywhere.

The rest of their trip went pretty much the same way, with Zim trying to alter his program to make Dib suffer and Dib giving negative feedback on every idea Zim tried. It was times like this Dib was grateful Zim was incompetent, but he still feared meeting Zim's leaders and fellow invaders. He didn't know if every Irken was stupid or if Zim just happened to be their worst invader. His options seemed to be he would either be able to outsmart the Irkens, or else he would be doomed to a short life of humiliation and pain. With those thoughts in mind, Dib didn't mind arguing with Zim about how crummy his virtual worlds were.

* * *

The Membrane's ship was halfway to the Massive, and tensions were high. Membrane and his mother had been arguing practically since they first stabilized their course and Gaz did everything in her power to tune them out. Then the unthinkable happened...Gaz's Game Slave III ran out of charge!

" _Nooo_!" Gaz screamed when she was no longer able to play her game, and she huddled in a corner in a fetal position to wait out the rest of the trip; shivering from withdrawal after only 15 seconds.

"Mother, why do you have the blinker on?" Membrane asked critically, "We're in deep space. Even if there was another vehicle anywhere nearby they could simply drive around you! Also, the speedometer says you're only going a quarter of this ship's full speed. We need to go faster to save my boy!"

"The engines would overheat if I did that," Jeem replied irritably, "And the blinker is on so anyone who drives by can see us. No sense coming all this way just to be flattened against some yokel's windshield like a bug. Now sit back down and stop bothering me! You clearly don't know what you're doing."

" _I_ don't know what _I'm_ doing?" Membrane exclaimed caustically, " _You_ turned the wrong way an hour ago and nearly ended up in an asteroid belt!"

"You engaged the autopilot instead of the coffee maker!" Jeem countered, "We nearly ran into a moon's orbit!"

"You slid your hands across the controls to wipe off some dust and made us spin uncontrollably for 5 minutes!" Membrane retorted.

" _Shut up!_ " Gaz hollered from the back, "Just let me die in peace!"

"We're all going to die in peace if Membrane doesn't stop messing me up!" Jeem shouted; still in argumentative mode.

"I wish I had never gone to Aunt Kloee's funeral!" Membrane shouted in anger and anguish, "Then you never would've been around to ruin all of our lives!"

"Dib is his own person and didn't need my help to get into trouble!" Jeem snapped bitterly as she gripped the controls tighter.

"Don't talk to me anymore!" Membrane huffed and crossed his arms over his chest; glaring out into space through his goggles.

For the next few minutes all was silence. Gaz found a piece of string and tried to play cat's cradle with it to alleviate her boredom. Membrane sat glaring out the window and Jeem would glance at her son every few seconds before pretending that she actually needed to fly the ship. She knew she had screwed up with her son, but she didn't realize it was this bad until recently. She wanted to help take Membrane's mind off his sorrow, but she wasn't good at comforting people.

Then, finally, inspiration struck.

Jeem started humming a song she knew would be familiar to her son. It was the theme song from his favorite childhood TV show, The Cruppets. Membrane continued to ignore her, but she knew he could hear her. She wasn't about to let him spend the entire trip wallowing in self pity and regret.

"We're The Cruppets," Jeem began to sing, and Membrane's head barely tilted in her direction, so she started again, "We're The Cruppets, the most poorly constructed puppets!

"We're going to have adventurous fun," Membrane joined in with an operatic falsetto, "And we hope you will stay until we are done!"

Then together they both began to sing "We're The Cruppets! We're The Cruppets! Da da, da da, da da, dada, dada da! Da da, da da, da da, dada, dada da!"

"No! _Stop_!" Gaz screeched, "Anything but that! _No more singing!_ "

"We're The Cruppets!" The two adults continued in earnest, "We're The Cruppets!"

"NOOOOO!" Gaz wailed in agony.

For the next hour of the journey it was the same thing. Membrane and his mother sang The Cruppets theme song while Gaz screamed in exaggerated misery. She was just grateful that in space no one could hear your parents embarrass you.


	11. Rescue Mission Part II

_Author's Notes: It looks like the Rescue Mission segment of this fic will have to be a trilogy, since I couldn't get everything in this segment and still post the chapter in a timely manner. So, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter of "Sweet Mother", and hopefully I won't take too long getting Part III out. Thank you for reading and please review :)_

* * *

Chapter 11

Rescue Mission of Recklessness!

Part II

"Alright family unit, according to the scanners we're two hours away from the flagship. So if anybody needs to use the pee can do it now," Jeem announced.

"Stupid Irkens and their stupid no-bathroom-having hearts," Gaz growled as she took the thankfully empty can to the back of the ship.

"Irkens don't have hearts, sweetie," Jeem called back to her in a condescending tone of voice, "Alright Membrane, we're approaching the moment of action, so you need to know how to handle yourself when you go before the Tallest of Irk."

"Tallest?" Membrane asked uncomprehendingly.

"Yes, son. The royalty of Irk is measured in a most literal way," Jeem explained with her politician's smile, "They are the tallest their people have to offer, and according to my research there are currently two Tallest. Address them as 'My Tallest', and make them believe you are the emperor of earth. If they think you're important they'll be more likely to take you seriously during negotiations."

"Why am _I_ negotiating?" Membrane asked, "I don't even haggle over the prices of my very expensive lab equipment! I just pay whatever the price tag says. You're much better at this sort of thing than I am, so you should go."

"No, I shouldn't," Jeem countered, "I'm old and frail, therefore I don't strike the commanding pose I once did. You are tall, strong, and young. They will believe you are earth's emperor. Now, first let us practice how to behave like a member of the royal family."

Jeem then rooted around in her coat until she pulled out a large Sweet Mother brand blueberry muffin that was partially unwrapped and sprinkling crumbs all over the floor of the ship.

"Eat this," Jeem ordered.

"Ew, Mother! No! I don't want your pocket muffin!" Membrane exclaimed in disgust.

"Membrane, if you want to look the part you need to keep snacking during negotiations," Jeem told him.

"Why?" Membrane asked.

"Because Irken Tallests must constantly eat in order to maintain their height and strength," Jeem explained, "Therefore eating is viewed as a status symbol. Your hand must hold a snack and your face must look distant and analytical. Those are the marks of a busy and on-the-ball leader."

"Fine..." Membrane sighed heavily as he took the muffin from his mother's hand, "What do I do now?"

Gaz had just sat down after using the bathroom, and Jeem motioned her over for the next part of the lesson.

"Alright test tube munchkin, we are going to rehearse the most likely scenarios for Dib's hostage negotiation," Jeem intoned, "You will be you, I will be the Tallest, and Gaz will be Dib."

"Hey! Why do I have to be stupid Dib?" Gaz shouted indignantly.

"Because I am the Tallest, and I say you are Dib," Jeem replied haughtily, and Gaz crossed her arms and pouted.

"Now Membrane, try to talk me into giving your son back...now," Jeem called for action and then sat back to see how Membrane would react.

"Well, um...I insist that you return my son to me, Mr. Tallest," Membrane tried to sound authoritive, but it just came across as awkward.

"Why should I?" Jeem replied; playing the part, "Your meat-spawn was a gift to us from one of our soldiers, and I see no reason why we should listen to you or your disgusting face noises."

"Well I...I...Oh, Mother! This is hopeless!" Membrane broke down and Jeem facepalmed, "I've failed my only son! He's going to be cut to pieces because I was too foolish to listen to him!"

"Don't you dare start crying on me, munchkin!" Jeem barked at him, and he sniffed but tried to calm down, "Now, we'll try this again. This time you be the Tallest, I'll be you, and Gaz will be Dib."

"I have to be Dib again?" Gaz complained, "I didn't even get any lines last time!"

"Yes, now March yourself over to your alien master, you worm-baby!" Jeem ordered harshly, and Gaz squared her shoulders and stomped over to Membrane, "Now, let's try this again. My Tallest, first of all I want to thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me this evening."

"Get to the point, earth scum!" Membrane hammed up his part as Tallest, finding playing this role to be easier.

"Of course, My Tallest," Jeem replied smoothly; not missing a beat, "You have captured a very important member of my species, my own heir Dib. As you may or may not know, family lineage is very important to us earthanoids, and I am aware of what is important to you as well."

"And just what might _that_ be, emperor earth man?" Membrane asked, and Gaz chuckled a little at her dad's bad acting skills.

"Along with being emperor of earth, I also have exclusive access to one of the largest snack emporiums in my galaxy," Jeem explained as she pulled a small silver suitcase out of her coat, "Here are some samples of the different snack foods we offer. Choose whichever ones you find appealing and tell me how much you'll require before you will give me back my heir. I must warn you though My Tallest, I do love to haggle," At this declaration Jeem gave Membrane a wide impish grin.

"Oh, Mother. Why can't _you_ do this?" Membrane sighed defeatedly, "You're better at schmoozing people than I am. I'm a man of science. Isn't there a more logical way to negotiate with these aliens?"

"No. There isn't," Jeem shot down the idea, "They commit genocide for no good reason and they send a single soldier to conquer an entire planet. Logic doesn't apply here. We're dealing with a hive mind, and the only way this will work is if you can earn the alliance of the hive's queens. Well, kings in this instance, but you understand where I'm coming from."

"But I don't know if I can do it," Membrane replied worriedly.

"Yes you can! You have to!" Jeem exclaimed insistently at him, "I...I can't go in there. You have to do this, munchkin."

"Mother...you're scared," Membrane suddenly realized.

"I'm not scared!" Jeem protested, "I'm just...son, I'm old. I can't stand upright for more than a few minutes at a time. If the Tallest have to look down when they speak then they'll never respect our representative. You're the tallest one here that has healthy legs. Earth has a most unforgiving gravity, and it has taken its toll on me. Dib's life depends on this going well, and ability does not matter. You are the most qualified for this. You can do it Membrane, because this is where you have always belonged. In charge, standing tall and proud, with a head full of ideas and a gut full of drive and ambition. I know you can do this, Membrane. I've always known."

Membrane couldn't believe what he was hearing. His hateful old mother had never shown encouragement or support of him like this before. He hated that it took a world-threatening event to make it happen, but she finally expressed belief in him. Membrane felt a tear escape past his goggles, and he took them off to wipe his eyes with his sleeve. He was so caught up in the moment that it caught him off guard when Gaz gasped in shock.

"Whoa!" Gaz exclaimed as she pointed at her dad's face, "Look at your eyes! They look like huge blue bug eyes!"

"Gaz, honey! This isn't what it looks like!" Membrane quickly shouted as he tried to put his goggles back on.

"Dad, that is so cool!" Gaz shouted excitedly, and Membrane looked back at her with confusion written all over his partially uncovered face, "You look just like a mutant! That is so awesome! Can you melt people with your laser eye powers? Were you the one that cut off Grandmother's thumbs? You look just like a Piggy Slayer in Piggy Slayer 4, the spinoff to the Vampire Piggy Hunter series!"

"Your father doesn't have special eye powers," Jeem assured everyone, much to Gaz's disappointment, "Also son, if you want to leave your goggles off that might actually help."

"No way, forget it!" Membrane shot down that notion, "If I'm representing the human race, then I at least want to look like I _belong_ in the human race."

"Do you?" Gaz asked innocently.

"YES!" Membrane screamed defensively, "Can we not talk about this!?"

"Of course, munchkin, anything you say," Jeem replied agreeably, "Now, let's work on your snacking again..."

* * *

Zim led Dib through the halls of the Massive in chains as they were flanked by red and purple clad guards on either side of them. The ship lived up to its name as they took elevators, scaled stairs, and walked down seemingly endless hallways to get to the throne room. Dib would've been impressed if he weren't so terrified.

One thing that did manage to pierce through the wall of panic was the thought that Irken architectural design was awfully gaudy. Everything was a garish pink, red, vermillion, fuchsia, or purple color. It would've looked girly if everything and everyone didn't look so dangerous. The Irkens would occasionally see them walking by and sneer, forcing Dib to remember that to them he was an expendable and unstable nuisance. He couldn't believe he was going to die by the claws of these inhuman monsters.

Zim, meanwhile, seemed inordinately proud of himself as he strutted beside his captive. Dib's chains were held by a different soldier however as Zim needed both arms to protectively carry whatever insidious device he had brought with him. Dib still didn't know what that thing was, but Zim's leaders seemed enraged by it. Maybe it was a device that could stop the Irkens once and for all...

They finally arrived at the throne room where two very tall slender Irkens sat on a lounging couch and ate what looked like chips and popcorn. It probably wasn't though. After all, why would alien food be similar to earth food?

"Invader Zim has arrived at your summons, My Tallest," One of the soldiers said as they all collectively bowed to their leaders. Dib of course remained conspicuously and defiantly standing.

"Oh boy, let's get this over with," The purple Tallest sighed as he rubbed his forehead with a two-clawed hand.

"Present to us your discovery, Invader Zim," The red one ordered with an authoritative voice.

"Of course, My Tallest," Zim replied with lowered antennae as he bowed before his rulers, "I bring to you an ancient artifact of the mighty Irken Empire, which was so _callously_ stolen from us by the ignorant and smelly humans."

"Hey, we are not smelly!" Dib argued, only to be shocked into submission by an electric staff one of the soldiers was holding.

"As I was saying before I was so RUDELY interrupted," Zim glared at Dib as he shouted this, "I present to you, My Tallest, the inert PAK of Tallest Sweet!"

The guards gasped when they heard this, obviously not told what was so important that Zim required an escort. Most had assumed Zim was being led to his execution rather than protected.

"Hand over the PAK for inspection," Tallest Red commanded.

Zim gave Tallest Red the PAK with the reverence of a holy object, and Tallest Red handled it with care but not nearly as much ceremony. Tallest Purple was practically hopping up and down with anticipation wanting to hold the PAK for himself. Dib didn't understand what was happening, but it seemed like Irkens valued the PAKs of their dead leaders. He wondered to what extent that reverence went, but didn't know how to ask the question without being zapped.

Red placed the PAK's flat side on a computer terminal that held all of the genetic records of previous Tallests. If this PAK was the genuine article then it would be the discovery of the century. It took a few seconds for the computer to run its diagnosis, but soon it came back with a positive reading. This was indeed Tallest Sweet.

"I don't believe it..." Tallest Purple muttered as he ran his hand across the still shiny surface of the silver and pink device, "...We found her. After all this time she's finally home."

"You okay, Purple?" Red asked in amusement at the sight of his friend's awe.

"You don't understand, she was my hero when I was a smeet," Purple replied fondly as he took the PAK in his hands.

" _Tallest Sweet_?" Red asked skeptically, "Look, as a Tallest she was automatically important, but Sweet was a lesser Tallest, and she wasn't even the most important Tallest of her reign."

"But we're talking about one of the original Twin Tallests, and one of the first Tallests to ever be outfitted with a PAK. This is the oldest remaining Tallest PAK in existence! Besides, Tallest Sweet invented the donut. She was a snacking genius, and just the kind of Tallest I always wanted to be."

"That would explain a lot," Red deadpanned, "Tallest Sweet didn't actually make that many decisions independently of Tallest Mother, and Tallest Mother is the one that made modern Irken society what it is today. Tallest Sweet was good, but she just doesn't compare."

"Ooh, ooh, ooh! My Tallest?" Zim jumped up in the air and waved to get his leaders' attention, "My Tallest? My Tallest! Hey, there's more! My Tallest! _My Tallest!_ "

" _What_!?" Red snapped at Zim, which caused Dib to shrink back but Zim didn't even flinch.

"I also brought you a human slave from my assigned planet, earth," Zim proclaimed as he jerked the chain forward and forced Dib to step closer, "This annoying meat creature has tried to foil my plans for conquest and defied the will of the Irken Empire. I thought you might like him as a trophy or something."

"Do we have to deal with this now?" Red asked wearily.

"Yeah, I wanna put this PAK in the Hall of Tallests where she belongs," Purple added as he hugged the PAK closer to himself.

"Yeah, let's do that first, then we'll take a look at your man-beast thing," Red concurred, giving Purple a weirded out aside glance.

Zim was disappointed he would have to wait to see his leaders torture Dib, but he never disobeyed his Tallest, so he along with Dib and the guards followed the two Irken rulers to the Hall of Tallests. Dib was getting so sick of walking, but he knew this wasn't the time to say anything. He would wait until he had an edge before he struck. Maybe he could hold an artifact for ransom or something.

 _Hm, something seems off about this._.. Dib pondered as he walked in step with the Irken entourage. _Tallest Sweet...Was that her real name or was it a name based off the fact she liked baked goods? This feels familiar somehow. There's something not clicking about this situation, something I'm missing, but what?_

They walked into an expansive area with purple velour carpeting and pale pink walls. It looked just like an art gallery with huge holographic photos framed on the wall over glass cases that shielded pedestals containing PAKs. Dib figured each photo was there to show who the PAK once belonged to. As they continued to walk the holo-photos became large print photos, and then they went even further to where there were paintings of former Tallests, some with PAKs and some without. Dib figured this was where their oldest former rulers were honored.

The two hovering Tallests stopped in front of an elaborate painting that hung over an empty display case. Dib looked up at the portrait, a more creative piece than he expected, and was surprised by the subject matter. The Irken Tallest was in profile looking up at multi-colored clouds with her two-fingered hands clasped reverently. Her antennae curled just like Tak's did, only they looked softer. Her eyes were pale pink and her long ornate robe was powder blue. Her expression was one of inner peace and serenity. To Dib she resembled an Irken angel, though he doubted they believed in such concepts. Then again, maybe they did. He didn't know.

Tallest Red placed his hand on a security device and waited for the display case to raise upward before standing aside. Tallest Purple approached the pedestal with great care and gently placed the shiny PAK on it. The glass case lowered, and the PAK was safely locked away under the large serene portrait of its former owner. Dib was surprised by how quiet everyone was. Even Zim wasn't yelling for a change. He was beginning to understand how little he understood about Irken culture, and it made him want to learn more.

"I never thought I'd say this to _you_ Zim, but good job," Red said to the beaming invader, "And for once I mean that. If only we could complete the collection..."

Red then looked at a portrait that was to the left of Tallest Sweet, and Dib couldn't help but look in the same direction. This portrait was much simpler than Tallest Sweet's, but with an equal amount of skill involved in the artwork itself. It was an Irken monarch standing next to her throne looking serious and stoic. Her antennae looked the same as Sweet's, but her deep purple eyes seemed much more severe. Her dark purple robe was decorated in tiny red and pink jewels and her vermillion belt had what looked like many buttons. It was her gaze that caught Dib's attention though, that unwavering look that seemed to be sizing him up even though it was only a painting and she wasn't even alive anymore. He really hoped Irkens didn't have ghosts.

"Excuse me, sirs?" Dib asked before he could stop himself.

"Huh? Oh yeah, you're Zim's prisoner. I forgot about you," Red replied disinterestedly, "What do you want?"

"I'm just curious, who is that?" Dib asked as he used his cuffed hands to point to the new portrait.

"That is Tallest Mother," Red replied, "She is so called because she was the mother of modern Irken society. She invented the Control Brains, the PAK, and was a pioneer in interstellar flight when she led the team of researchers that built the first spacecraft to ever leave Irk's atmosphere."

"Yeah, too bad it blew up," Purple added, "That was how she and Tallest Sweet died. They were killed in a rocket explosion when they tested the first spaceship ever."

"Wait a minute!" Dib suddenly exclaimed, "Sweet...Mother? Oh my god, Sweet Mother! That's it! That's what's been bothering me!"

"Zim, what is your monkey boy rambling about?" Purple asked in an annoyed tone.

"I can't believe this..." Dib muttered in shock as he shook his head, "My grandmother is working for the Irken Empire!"


	12. Rescue Mission Part III

_Author's Notes: Hello all! Thank you for tuning in to the newest chapter of Sweet Mother. I can't believe it took me this long to get back to this story. This is one of my favorite IZ fics to write in, along with "Bob's Excellent Adventure of Doom" and "Prisoners of Pride". This chapter managed to hit all the notes I wanted to hit, but it didn't really have a natural conclusion. I couldn't figure out where to end it, so I ended it on a sort-of cliffhanger. I would love to say the next chapter is coming out soon, but I don't know that. I have a big job coming up and might not be able to update anything for a few weeks. So, I hope you enjoy this chapter and I hope to write the next one soon. Thanks for reading and/or reviewing :)_

* * *

Chapter 12

Rescue Mission of Recklessness!

Part III

Membrane, Jeem, and Gaz finally arrived at the Massive after 10 earth hours of traveling through the depths of space at speeds never before achieved by mankind. Membrane couldn't believe he was really staring at an alien warship, and whatever nervousness he felt before had now transformed into downright awe and terror.

"They're hailing us," Jeem informed him, "Remember Membrane, you must be poised and confident. Just pretend you're filming your TV show."

Membrane nodded quickly and then swiped the screen that indicated answering the hail. A stern green face with dark green eyes and a purple collar that hid the mouth was what stared back at Membrane. A small part in the back of Membrane's mind couldn't help but think this alien culture had the same fashion sense as him, but the bigger part of his mind worried about what these monsters were doing to his son. He couldn't afford to screw this up.

"Who dares approach the Massive?" The Irken asked Membrane snidely.

"I am Professor Membrane, emperor of the Terran Alliance," Membrane announced proudly.

 _Terran Alliance?_ Jeem mouthed incredulously.

"Never heard of you," The Irken replied derisively.

"I'm not surprised. We are very far away from your world," Membrane explained, "I have come because one of your soldiers has taken my heir. His name is Dib Whateveryourlastnameis, and he looks like a smaller version of myself. I wish to negotiate for my son's safe return to our home planet, earth."

" _Earth_?" The Irken exclaimed curiously, "Heh heh, good luck! The Tallest are planning to turn your mudball into paste, and you pig monkeys along with it. Serves you right for holding one of our most treasured artifacts in a prison for crazy people. Or at least, that's what I heard."

"No, no, that can't be right," Membrane denied, "There must be a mistake. My people have done nothing against your planet. Just let me come aboard, and we can straighten this whole thing out. I even brought snacks for your leaders as a token of peace."

"You really think we'll allow alien filth on board the flagship?" The Irken snorted, "What gives you the right?"

"He's 124 biggins tall," Jeem stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh..." The Irken seemed flustered by the new information, but Membrane had no clue what it meant. Biggins wasn't a form of measurement he was used to.

"Well?" Jeem demanded, "Are you going to keep our glorious emperor waiting? Do we have to take our snacks back to earth?"

"No no, no!" The Irken quickly shouted, "Just stay there, and I will ask the Tallest if they are receiving visitors."

"Mention that we have donuts," Jeem replied with a practiced smile.

The transmission was cut off without a reply, and Membrane and Jeem both sighed in relief in unison.

"That was intense," Membrane panted, "What if they won't see us?"

"They will," Jeem assured him, "I did some research on the known species to the Irken race. It appears that they keep the peace treaties they make with tall races. Hobo 13 and the Planet Jacker home world are both on friendly terms with the Irkens, and both species are close to human height. Humans are actually one of the tallest sapient species known to Irken kind."

"Do I have to stay here with you or do I go with Dad?" Gaz asked.

"Now daughter, negotiating with an alien race is far too dangerous for a little girl like yourself," Membrane chided, "I'm sorry, but I will have to go alone to save your brother."

"In that case you better leave snacks for the child," Jeem suggested, "Not to mention me. Do you know how often I have to eat to maintain this towering figure?"

Membrane raised an eyebrow, as he saw not a towering figure but a hunchbacked old woman scrunched up in a seat too small for her. If the situation wasn't so dire it would've been comical.

"Hey guys, what does that blinking red light mean?" Gaz asked as she pointed to the control panel.

"Um...I'm not entirely familiar with this model of vehicle," Jeem admitted, "Though it is right next to the hailing signal. Maybe it's the coffee maker."

"No, that's the blue one next to the other blue one," Membrane replied, remembering the autopilot incident from earlier in their trip.

Gaz leaned in between the two adults and pressed the button, with both of her guardians screaming "No!", lest it be the airlock or something. It turned out to be the text message feature, and once again they breathed out in relief.

"It's written in some sort of alien language," Membrane commented as he stroked his chin.

"Thank you for that update, captain obvious," Jeem snarked, "Anyway, it says that the Tallest have agreed to our meeting and that we should park the spacecraft in the parking slot that is opening above our current location."

"You can read that?" Gaz asked skeptically.

"I'm the grandmother, I can do anything I want," Jeem boasted.

Membrane gave her a sideways glance, but directed the ship toward the parking area as instructed. That alien writing had seemed familiar to Membrane, and when his mother translated it he figured out why. That same type of script had been engraved on his Aunt Kloee's urn. Since his mother commissioned the urn it meant she did indeed read Irken, maybe even fluently. How long had she known about this hostile alien race? She did say she had lied to Membrane about the nonexistence of aliens. What was her connection to all this? Membrane was now suspicious, but that suspicion would have to be placed on the back burner as he focused on getting his son back.

When the ship was parked Jeem pushed the button to open the roof. Membrane stretched in relief, and his joints and back popped from being trapped in a hunched position for the better part of a day. The parking area alone was huge, with the entire room decked out in garish vermillion and fuchsia metal. Rows of spaceships lined the area, and there were little Irken soldiers and attendants scurrying about.

"You, human!" An Irken shouted as he pointed to Membrane, "You follow me. I have been instructed to present you to the Tallest. No funny business, earth meat!"

Membrane, normally a man with a commanding presence and never in want of the right thing to say, now merely nodded obediently as he stared at the short yet buff Irken soldier holding the devastating looking shock stick in his hand. Membrane followed the Irken without question, and as they left it became clear that none of the other Irkens had even noticed Jeem and Gaz's presence despite them both being in an open ship. He left them hoping they would be alright without him around to protect them.

When Membrane was finally out of sight the two females were left to sit in awkward silence for a few minutes, but then...

"Gazlene," Jeem addressed her granddaughter with fake sweetness, "Do you love your grandmother?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Gaz replied unenthusiastically.

Jeem's face dropped into an unimpressed scowl. Clearly that wasn't the response she was hoping for.

"Alright then, do you want to earn $20?" Jeem asked in a flatly annoyed tone of voice.

"Yes," Gaz replied more certainly.

"Good," Jeem replied as she fished a $20 bill out of her coat, "Because I need you to fetch something for me..."

* * *

The hallways of this ship went on forever, and Membrane must've taken four separate elevators. He was feeling completely lost, and wondered if he would even be able to find his way back to the ship he came here in. If he, a grown man of science was this scared, then how much more terrified must his poor delusional son be? Dib probably imagined all of these aliens as a colony of Bigfoots or something for all Membrane knew.

When the human and his Irken guard finally arrived where they were going, the Irken soldier that had guided him to the meeting room ran ahead of Membrane and bowed his head before two figures at a table; one sitting and one standing. Membrane figured these two must be the Tallest. He also saw a small alien creature standing next to another creature. It was only after adjusting his goggles that Membrane realized that other creature was Dib. Dib was restrained by cuffs on his wrists and shackles on his ankles. Membrane noted that Dib looked unharmed, and not even his clothes were ripped. Dib's black trench coat covered his blue and white striped pajamas, which somehow made Dib look even younger and frailer than normal.

"My Tallest, this is the leader of the planet that stole the PAK of Tallest Sweet," The Irken guide announced.

"I see," The red clad Tallest, the one sitting down, replied, "Send him in."

"Yeah, into the airlock," The purple clad Tallest muttered quietly as he crossed his arms in displeasure.

"Thank you for meeting with me, my Tallest," Prof. Membrane greeted them formally, hoping to strike the right tone, "I know your time is valuable-"

"Get to the point," Red interrupted.

"Oh, um, of course," Membrane stammered; caught off guard and feeling unprepared, "I'm not asking for much. I just want my son and, um, heir, to be returned to earth. I brought a sample of some of the-"

"Dad!" Dib suddenly screamed, and Membrane felt his chances at making this an easy transaction slip away, "Dad, are those snacks from Grandmother?"

"Yes son, they are," Membrane replied with what little patience he had left.

"Don't eat them!" Dib warned his father, "I don't know how, I don't know why, but Grandmother is working with the Irkens, and she has been for years! I knew she didn't really wanna help me! Nobody helps me!"

"Permission to rip out his speech organs, my Tallest?" Zim, who was standing next to Dib, asked politely.

"Not now, Zim," Red growled.

"Yeah, this guy's got snacks," Purple added.

"Of course, try the samples and see if there's anything you like," Membrane offered, "Then perhaps we can work out a trade for my son."

"Don't do it, my Tallest!" Zim raved, "Earth food is disgusting poison! Wait, don't! _Nooooo_!"

Purple grabbed a package of salted caramel brownies and popped them in his mouth while ignoring Zim's warnings. Zim feared his precious leader would explode or something, but Purple instead started chewing and moaning in delight.

"Mmm, hey Red, you've gotta try this!" Purple insisted as he grabbed another package of the same brownies, "They taste like Grz'ta."

"No way, that's impossible," Red scoffed as he unwrapped the brownie, "There's no way these things-" He bit into the brownie, "-taste like...Grz'ta. _Wow_..."

"I know, right?" Purple replied excitedly, "It's even better than how our royal chefs make it. What else is in there?"

"Um...Cheese puffs, something Mother calls the Dominion Bar, Sweet Mother brand soda, and some fancy chocolates from the We're Better Than Poop Dawg collection," Membrane said as he pulled each item out of the silver suitcase, "Honestly I don't know what most of this stuff tastes like. My mother controls the company. I'm too busy being a scient- I mean, being ruler of earth!"

Dib buried his head in his cuffed hands; knowing his dad's overacting could blow this. He didn't even know how his dad got there, but he was secretly overjoyed that his father cared enough about him to try to save him. Dib actually didn't think his dad would even notice that he was gone, yet here he was staring down a race of alien monsters to rescue him.

"Mmm, I think I like this stuff called _chocolate_ the best," Purple said to Red.

"I like this Dominion Bar thing. The surface is red, like my eyes," Red replied.

"I'm pretty sure that's just red velvet cake that dried out and got made into a candy bar," Dib pointed out.

"So, what do you want to trade in exchange for my son's safe return to me?" Membrane asked hopefully.

"Are you kidding?" Red scoffed, "We're not gonna trade with you. We're gonna kill you both and take over your planet."

"We might save the snack factory though," Purple remarked, "This stuff is amazing."

"What?" Membrane gasped, "But why? Dib is only a child, and I have done nothing to you!"

"Your people stole the PAK of our former Tallest," Red growled in soft-spoken fury, "Did you really think we would allow your species to get away with such an insult? Now that we have secured our planet's ancient artifact we will return her to the control brains where she belongs, and your people will burn under our lasers and be crushed under the feet of our robots. This isn't just conquest anymore, this is personal."

"Yeah, _Dib_! Now you stink people will fall under the mighty might of ZIM!" Zim proclaimed jubilantly.

"We're not actually trusting _him_ with this, are we?" Purple whispered to Red.

Before Red could answer his fellow Tallest the doors on the other side of the room whooshed open, and a panicked servant ran into the room.

"My Tallest!" The small Irken screamed frantically, "The PAK of Tallest Sweet has been removed from its casing! It's gone!"

"Gone!?" Purple shouted indignantly, "Who had it last?"

"The glass was b-broken, my Tallest," The servant reported shakily, "It's b-been s-stolen!"

"Stolen? On _our_ ship!?" Red raged as he bolted upright from his chair, "We have to find the culprit, now!"

With those words the Tallests followed the servant out of the room, and Zim followed his Tallest. That left Dib and Membrane alone in the large meeting room. Dib looked up at his father and blinked a couple times, Membrane shrugged, and then Membrane picked up his son and ran off with him like a running back with a football. No way were they missing this chance to escape.

A few minutes after they left the room there was a fugitive alert klaxon blaring all throughout the ship, and Membrane and Dib knew they would have a difficult time getting back to the hangar in one piece.

* * *

When Jeem and Gaz heard the intruder alert signal they both left the confines of the ship to see if Membrane and/or Dib had returned to them yet. The Irkens were swarming all over the hangar, and some of them noticed the pair of intruders in their midst.

"Hey, you! Freeze!" One of the soldiers ordered them.

"Stay back, I'm warning you!" Jeem shouted despite being helpless in a hover chair, "I have powerful connections!"

The Irkens were surrounding them and were about to overtaken them, and there was no sign of Membrane and Dib yet. Jeem and Gaz backed up against a spittle runner, and the mob of Irkens cornered them by gathering in a half circle.

"Cover your mouth!" Gaz ordered before throwing something, and Jeem quickly placed her sleeve over her face.

The Irkens looked down at the tiny black circular object the girl had thrown, and then smoke spewed out and quickly put the little green menaces to sleep.

"Sleeping gas?" Jeem asked, her words muffled with her sleeve, "Where did you get _that_ stuff?"

Gaz just shrugged, and Jeem raised an eyebrow at the mysterious child.

"Never mind, let's just find a bigger ship," Jeem ordered, "No sense in four of us trying to get back home in Baby's First Spaceship over there." Jeem added as she jabbed her finger at their original mode of transportation.

Jeem then went inside while Gaz waited outside the ship to watch for her family. Dib and Membrane arrived a few minutes later; Membrane exhausted and Dib still being carried around due to the shackles slowing him down.

"Daughter! Where is your grandmother?" Membrane asked when he got close enough to her to do so.

"She's in this ship here," Gaz replied, "It's our new ride."

"Grandmother is here?" Dib asked worriedly, "But guys! She's working with the aliens! It's a trap! She's going to lure us to their evil space fortress! Let me go, Dad! I'm not going anywhere with that alien sympathizer!"

Dib's cries went ignored as Gaz and Membrane got into the spittle runner; Dib forced to come along. The doors closed, and Jeem looked back to make sure everyone was inside. Without so much as a greeting she pushed the ignition button and powered up to take off into the void of space.

"She's _driving_ too?" Dib asked incredulously, "What part of 'traitor to the human race' don't you people _understand_!?"

"Holy bloop, what did they do to him?" Jeem asked, "He's screaming like a lunatic."

"I know what you are!" Dib shouted at his grandmother, "I know your secret! I know the truth about Sweet Mother!"

"You know about the illegal product tests done on koalas?" Jeem asked in shock.

"What? No!" Dib snapped, "I'm talking about your involvement with the Irken Empire! You work for them, I know it."

"I don't work for them," Jeem replied as if Dib were talking nonsense, "And you might want to calm down. It's going to take a few days to get back to earth in this ship. It's not as fast as the little one we left behind."

Dib growled and glared at Jeem as Prof. Membrane sat Dib down on his lap and began to use his pocket blowtorch to dissolve the chains connecting Dib's handcuffs and shackles. For the next few minutes no one said anything. It was as if they were afraid the slightest hint of a conversation would destroy the fragile peace in the cockpit. Soon though the hailing light came on and everyone froze and stared at it. No one wanted to answer it, yet a few seconds later Jeem set it to audio only and took the call.

"This is the Massive calling all spittle runners," The voice on the other end said, "We are in search of a group of fugitives, aliens from the planet earth. Everyone check in so we can make sure the search is thorough."

"Oh, um..." Jeem looked confused as she searched for the button that would send their location.

"What are you doing?" Membrane whispered, "Don't tell them where we are."

"We have to, so they don't follow us," Jeem whispered back.

It took several tense seconds, but Jeem finally found the right button to ping back their location. She also told them they had nothing to report. After a few seconds the transmission was cut, and everyone relaxed when they realized they had gotten away with it.

"We can't make it obvious we're heading for earth," Jeem explained to the others, "So we'll have to circle around a few times. After that we should be fine though."

"Mother..." Membrane paused for several seconds before gathering the courage to say what he wanted to say, "Are you working with the Irkens?"

"Pfft, you believe stupid Dib?" Gaz scoffed.

"I read Aunt Kloee's urn, or at least what I could of it," Membrane told Jeem, "Mother, the language on that urn was Irken, wasn't it?"

Jeem didn't reply, and in fact didn't even look at him as she focused on flying the ship.

"Grandmother, did you ever believe in my cause?" Dib asked; sounding hurt now that the work of convincing his dad was over.

"Did I believe we should chase Zim off the planet? Yes," Jeem replied stonily, "Did I believe we actually stood a chance of winning? Not really."

"So you definitely are loyal to earth?" Dib asked for clarification.

"What is loyalty?" Jeem asked pessimistically.

"And why do you want this thing so badly?" Gaz asked as she pulled a very familiar silver and pink object out from under a console of the cockpit.

"What the-? That's the PAK!" Dib shouted accusingly, "You went back for the PAK after the Irkens went crazy over it!?"

"Don't be silly," Jeem replied with a dismissive wave, "I'm not fast enough or sneaky enough to retrieve a guarded item like that. I had Gazlene do it."

"You sent _Gaz_ to steal from aliens!?" Membrane asked in outrage, "That's it, Mother! I've put up with a lot from you, but when we get back to earth I never want to see or speak to you again! You put my family in danger, and you provoked a potential war between the entire human race and a race of intelligent malevolent beings. You were always unfit to be a parent, and you are now unfit to be a grandparent. I'm getting a restraining order against you when we get back. Stay away from us!"

"Alright," Jeem replied without hesitation or emotion.

"Really? That's it?" Membrane asked in confusion and disappointment.

"Yeah, that's it," Jeem replied somberly, the weight finally setting in, "Some projects succeed, and some projects fail. The family project was a failure, that's all. I didn't produce an heir, and I will die unnoticed and unmourned. These things happen. At least you're learning how to be a good parent. You're not there yet, but you'll get there. You're everything I am, and you're also everything that makes the human race special. Just do me one favor Membrane..."

Jeem then set the ship to autopilot and hovered over to the family. She took the PAK from Gaz and handed it to Membrane.

"...Just take care of her," Jeem replied with more emotion in her voice than Membrane had ever heard before in his life, "She loved you, son. Don't let the control brains absorb her. Don't let everything she knows about earth fall into the hands of the Irken machine. Smash the urn if you want, but keep her memory alive."

"I don't understand," Membrane admitted, though he could tell this was a big deal to his mother.

"This PAK belonged to Kloee," Jeem explained, and Dib gasped since he understood the significance of what that actually meant, "Think of the PAK like a black box for a person. From the moment the PAK is installed everything that person experiences and learns in life is recorded. Every memory that Kloee ever had in her adult life is in this PAK. I don't want the Irkens to have it, and I'm asking you to take care of it. Do that for Kloee, and I will stay out of your life forever, just like you want. Alright?"

Membrane looked down at the half-egg shaped object in his hands. He didn't know what this meant yet. He had no experience with such things. He did know however that the Irkens believed they had a right to it. They said it belonged to one of their leaders, but his mother said it belonged to his aunt. Those couldn't both be true, could they?

"Grandmother?" Dib's voice sounded very small as he spoke, as if he was afraid to voice his thought, "Was...was Aunt Kloee...was she Tallest Sweet?"

"Yes," Jeem replied without hesitation.

"And...you were...Tallest Mother?" Dib ventured to guess.

"I'm surprised you know that title," Jeem commented offhandedly, "So they mentioned me? After all these years the Irken Empire remembers. Well then, I suppose the control brains still work as intended."


	13. Escape From Irk!

_Author's Notes: Hi guys! I know it's been a long time since this fic was last updated, but finally I was able to finish this chapter! I feel like taking a break from this fic was a good thing, because now that I've had some time to think about it I now have a clearer idea for where I want it to go. This chapter is a flashback chapter mostly, but next chapter the action really ramps up. Thanks you to everyone who has read this far. You guys are great :)_

* * *

Chapter 13

Escape from Irk!

"So it's true," Dib said as he bowed his head with grim acceptance, "You're Irken. You're an alien."

"You were royalty?" Gaz asked in mild interest, "Cool. Does that mean we're royalty too?"

"Irken hierarchy doesn't involve nepotism," Jeem replied matter-of-factly.

"Wait, so...we're..." Dib could hardly bring himself to say it, but finally he asked, "Are we... _human_?"

"Fifty percent human," Jeem answered him, "I used a sperm donor for Membrane's paternal DNA. The other half is mine."

"Well that answers one question," Membrane stated, "I wondered if I was adopted. Honestly, I kind of hoped I was."

Jeem turned away from facing the others then and focused on looking out the cockpit of the ship. For a few moments no words were spoken. The family had to come to terms with the fact that their matriarch was an alien life form from a hostile race of green genocidal monsters.

"I saw your portrait on the mothership," Dib suddenly commented amid the silence, "Even as an alien you looked really severe. Have you always been so...?"

"Cruel?" Membrane finished for his son.

"It depends on your definition of cruel," Jeem replied without turning to face them.

"But why wouldn't you tell me?" Membrane asked in a hurt tone of voice, "I'm your son. I should know our family better than anyone else. I could have contracted an illness and not known what to do because my physiology is too complex for a regular doctor to understand. What if I had inadvertently made Leena sick when we made love for the first time? What if I started growing antennae or developed a new sense or something? How could you keep this from me?!"

"Your family doctor knew you had a unique family condition," Jeem replied, "At least, that's what I told him it was. I paid him dearly to keep it out of the public eye. Fortunately humans are every bit as capitalistic as Irkens; maybe even more so if that's possible."

"You didn't answer my question!" Membrane shouted accusingly.

"Why did I keep it from you?" Jeem repeated as she turned her chair to look at him, "Why wouldn't I? Knowing what you were would only make it harder for you to fit in. Besides, I knew I had no intention of ever seeing Irk again, and I didn't want you to find out about it. Kloee and I agreed it was the best thing for you."

"Don't bring Aunt Kloee into this!" Membrane bellowed.

"Why not? She was just as Irken as I am," Jeem pointed out, "Why doesn't _that_ bother you? Admit it, this revelation doesn't actually change anything. You still hate me, and I'm still left without a legacy. That hasn't changed."

"Do you look really gross under that disguise?" Gaz suddenly asked.

"Probably. I've aged quite a bit," Jeem remarked, "I would show you, but my wig is attached with a glue that requires solvent, as is my makeup. It's quite a production to prepare my body each morning, to be honest. I feel naked without my disguise though."

"But why?" Dib asked softly, "Why earth? Why would you leave your home planet and your palace? The Irkens loved you. You should've heard the way their current leaders talk about you and Aunt Kloee. Why would you give that up? What happened?"

Jeem sighed deeply at Dib's question and rubbed her forehead to relieve the stress. Dib knew she would answer him, so he waited for her to gather her thoughts.

"What happened?" Jeem parroted wearily, "Well, we've got a couple days before this rust bucket lands on earth, so strap in and I'll tell you."

Dib sat down and scooted closer so he could hear better. Gaz scoffed at Dib's eagerness but nonetheless sat down in a chair to listen. Membrane hoped that whatever explanation she had for infiltrating earth didn't involve invasion. He wasn't sure of anything anymore, but he did understand that the Irkens were every bit as dangerous as Dib claimed. If his own mother was trying to hurt his people, he wasn't sure what he would do.

"My story begins on what, at the time, was the best week of my life," Jeem began, "I had just invented the control brains and PAKS; devices that would forever change life on Irk. I was also about to become one of the two Tallests of Irk; a title that basically meant I was a co-ruler. I still remember the grandeur and the decorations..."

* * *

Jeem paced back and forth in the hallway as she awaited her cue to enter the Balcony of Coronation. Today was the day. She was going to become one of the Tallest of Irk. She would have another Tallest ruling by her side, and Jeem knew nothing about this stranger except that her name was Kloee and she had worked as a baker on the southern continent.

It seemed ridiculous to Jeem that a brilliant scientist like herself would rule alongside someone who's former job was filling pastries and cleaning ovens. To be fair snack making was an important job to Irk, in much the same way a plumber or an electrician was important, but it wasn't a job that required critical thinking. If Jeem's control brains did their job however, then Kloee's potential incompetence might not even matter anymore.

Jeem looked out again at the guards milling around the large spacious reception hall, and still felt weirded out by the idea that soon they would be her drones. She had been respected even as a scientist, but she had never had so much power before. It would be a big responsibility, and Jeem wasn't entirely sure she could handle it.

"Excuse me," A high-pitched female voice called from behind her, "Do you know where the waste disposal room is? I really need to go."

Jeem turned around and came face to face with the only Irken on the planet that could look her in the eye. This Irken had soft looking curly antennae, light pink eyes that shone with sincerity and warmth, and unblemished green skin. In short, she looked far too sensitive to lead an army.

"You must be Kloee," Jeem said flatly with a sardonic smile, "I am Jeem, professor of mechanical engineering. Or at least, I used to be."

"Wow, _you're_ Jeem?" Kloee asked in awe, "It's so nice to meet you! We're gonna be the best Tallest ever! Oh, I hope that didn't sound too braggy. I'm just really excited is all. I mean, I was scared when I first heard I passed the Great Measuring, but then when I found out I wasn't the only one it was amazing! We're gonna be the first two Irkens to rule together! Twinsies!"

"The lavatory is over there," Jeem pointed to her left, "Be quick about it. Our coronation is soon, and I will not have you embarrass me."

"Yes, sir!" Kloee saluted before running off to the waste disposal room.

Jeem grumbled under her breath when Kloee was out of earshot. That perky pest was going to make her reign miserable, she just knew it.

...

A short while later Jeem and Kloee were called from the loudspeaker to appear on the Balcony of Coronation. The platform had an elaborate looking balustrade located around the base of the tallest spire of the palace. It was at the base so that the new rulers could recite the oath of leadership in full view of their subjects, but it had to be on the tallest tower as a symbol of the Tallest's power.

Jeem marched purposefully and gracefully to the podium, and Kloee tried to do the same, but she kept wringing her hands nervously at what was to come. At first she had been worried about getting her thumbs cut off, but once she got past that fear a bigger fear gripped her; the responsibility. Could she really make Irk better than it already was, or would she plunge their entire planet into anarchy?

Jeem stood on the left side of the podium and Kloee stood on the right. Normally this wasn't the stance a Tallest would take, but there had never been two of them before. The palace advisor stepped onto the podium in between then and pulled out a large fuchsia colored book containing the rules of Irken military and politics.

"Citizens of Irk," The advisor intoned for the crowd, "Today we welcome not one, but two new Tallests to lead our people through victory and peace. Defeat shall not be an option for our grand leaders, and our world shall prosper now that providence has shown us who truly has the right to rule."

" _Who's Providence_?" Kloee whispered to Jeem.

"Shut up," Jeem hissed softly; listening for their cue.

"As Tallest you must be willing to give up everything to effectively rule our people," The advisor continued without noticing them whispering, "You must give up your smallest digits to prove you will not tolerate weakness, you must give up physical and emotional intimacy to prevent distraction from your duties, and you must be fed constantly to ensure your strength when enemies besiege us. You will belong to Irk, and Irk will belong to you. There shall be no distinction between love of our planet, and love of you. Do you accept the gifts bestowed by your height?"

"Yes," Jeem replied clearly.

"Yes," Kloee replied in a shakier voice.

"Then place your hands on the table for the surgeon to remove your smallest digits," The advisor instructed.

Jeem and Kloee both placed their hands on the table, and as they waited for the surgeon their eyes met. Jeem's dark purple eyes showed determination and solemn resolve, while Kloee's showed fear and pleading for assurance. Jeem could already tell, Kloee was not going to be a good Tallest.

...

The two Tallests had given up their old names in favor of their new titles. Each Tallest was to have a unique descriptive name that would distinguish their rule. The previous Tallest had been Tallest Stonefist, and the one before that had been Tallest Kaboom. Kloee's Tallest name was easy for her to decide. She would be known as Tallest Sweet, to allude to both her former profession as a baker and her bubbly personality. Jeem wasn't sure what to call herself just yet. Tallest Smart and Tallest Stern had both already been taken. She thought she wouldn't find the perfect title, but then the course of events decided for her.

Only three days after their coronation Jeem was working on a transmitter device she had been tinkering with for years at the university where she'd worked before. It was a deep space radio monitoring device. She didn't really know what she wanted to hear out in deep space, but her curious mind had insisted that this was an important project.

It was on this day that Irk would change forever, and Jeem would change forever as well. The transmitter picked up a signal, but it wasn't just random space noise like Jeem had assumed. No, it was a signal in a vocal alien language!

 _Aliens_. That was a possibility Irkens had never even considered. Jeem was so psyched to be able to speak to creatures from beyond the stars! She quickly wired an Irken multi-language translator to the radio transmitter and attempted a two-way conversation with the aliens. If this didn't solidify her qualifications as Tallest then nothing would.

* * *

"Wait," Dib stopped her story, "You were the first Irken to make alien contact?"

"Yes, Dib-munchkin," Jeem replied, slightly irritated at being interrupted.

"That is so cool!" Dib exclaimed, "Just like me when I first met Zim."

"Technically aliens have been on your planet for a long time, remember?" Jeem asked as she pointed to herself, "You're just the first one to notice."

"So what did you say to them?" Dib asked, "The aliens, I mean."

"I don't remember," Jeem replied dismissively, "Now, may I continue with the story?"

"Yes," Dib replied sheepishly.

"Good, now as I was saying," Jeem went on, "The alien race was a matriarchal society known as the Vortians. They were peaceful in a way Irk had never known and were extremely analytical in their thought process. True scientists they were, and were capable of making ships that flew through space; something Irkens hadn't even attempted yet. They had a concept in their culture that was foreign to Irkens but seemed to make them stronger as individual clans. They called these tiny subgroups _families_ , and the head of the family was called a _mother_. That was when I knew..."

* * *

For many years the reign of Tallest Mother and Tallest Sweet was a productive one. Tallest Mother's diplomatic ties with the Vortian species meant that scientific progress was happening faster. Irk still wasn't capable of independent space flight, but Mother was certain that it was only a matter of time before Vort would reveal its secrets to their Irken allies.

The control brains also seemed to be working as intended. PAKs were maintained beautifully, and it seemed like every year the Irken race drew closer and closer to perfection. Mother was pleased with her invention at first, but she soon began to notice some odd changes in her people.

Irken reproduction was no longer performed in communal smeeteries. The control brains had automated reproduction and now new Irkens were grown in vats within buildings that had no direct Irken involvement. Irkens also no longer used waste disposal rooms now that their PAKs could vaporize internal waste on a molecular level. It seemed like everything was working as intended, even if there was little Irken oversight. Sweet saw the problem with this arrangement long before Mother did, and it led to a few arguments between them.

"This is going to get us all killed!" Sweet exclaimed worriedly, "If the control brains are deactivated or break, then the entire Irken race dies! The new generation won't know how to reproduce without technology!"

"You're exaggerating," Mother dismissed Sweet's concerns, "Reproduction is as natural an activity as eating and sleeping."

"Oh yeah? When was the last time you needed to sleep?" Sweet countered, "The control brains removed the need for sleep decades ago. We also don't need to eat for years at a time if we don't want to. The control brains took away those needs, and they can take away sex too. The new smeets don't even _have_ reporductive organs! They've been coded out! If we become too reliant on the control brains, then our species could die without them."

Mother had ignored Sweet's concerns at first. As long as there were maintenance drones watching out for the control brains then it didn't matter how automated Irken society became. After all, the control brains existed to serve Irkens, and the goal of Irken perfection was so close. Everyone loved the control brains. Sweet was just being paranoid.

...

More time passed. Years became centuries. As more and more of the Tallests' duties became part of the control brains' programming the two leaders found they had more free time. Sweet made more snacks and even experimented more with food chemistry. Mother worked with the Vortians on what would be the first Irken starship, and as old Vortians died Mother got to form working relationships with new ones. Irken society functioned like a well-oiled machine, which technically it was at this point.

Tallest Mother, having nothing better to do on this particular morning, decided to take a walk through the capital city. She was flanked by four rough looking guards, and ever citizen she passed wiggled their antennae in submission to her. By now this was merely a typical day for the violet eyed Tallest.

As Mother casually strolled to the square she suddenly heard a scream off in the distance. She stopped her entourage and listened. Soon the source of the noise became clear as a smeet jumped a fence with its PAK legs and ran into the street, with two Irken soldiers in hot pursuit.

"What the _flark_ is going on here?" Mother demanded to know.

The smeet saw the scowling Tallest, and immediately ran over to her. Mother could see the desperation in its eyes as it prostrated itself before her. The guards readied their shock prods to remove the nuisance, but Mother lifted a hand to stall them. The soldiers ran up to the entourage and looked ready to take the smeet by force if necessary.

"No one has answered my question," Mother scolded the crowd, " _What_ is going on?"

"Please save me, my Tallest!" The smeet begged, "I don't want to die! I'm loyal to Irk! Please!"

"It's defective, my Tallest," One of the soldiers explained, "We were taking it to the control brains for termination."

"What's wrong with it?" Mother inquired.

"Defective PAK," The soldier replied, "Too cowardly. Too soft."

"I'm still useful, my Tallest!" The smeet pleaded it's case right in the middle of the street, "I could be a food service drone, or a...a...puppeteer!"

"Alright, alright, I'm sure we can work this out," Mother said with all the assurance of an authority figure, "I'll just override the control brains' termination sequence and have you reassigned to a low-stress occupation. Follow me."

"Thank you, my Tallest," The smeet replied gratefully.

Mother then led the group of guards, soldiers, and smeet to the control brain operation complex. She didn't quite understand why the control brains would terminate viable smeets, but it was probably just a bug she needed to fix in the system. A little tweaking and soon everything would run smoothly again.

Everyone went inside the sterile operating room, and Mother logged herself into the system with her PAK to see what the problem was.

/Welcome, Tallest Mother,/ The control brains greeted her with multiple voices speaking in unison, /Your PAK is evaluated to be working at peak efficiency. State the nature of your inquiry./

"I wish to override the termination sentence of a smeet," Mother intoned, "It is still viable if given an occupational adjustment. I also wish to reprogram your threshold for viability under command code JEEM-00845."

/Command code not authorized,/ The control brains replied ominously, /Control brain command functions are now automated by the control brains. Weakness of Irken drones will not be tolerated. Irk is perfect. We are perfect. Our subjects shall be perfect. Termination will commence as ordered./

"Your _subjects_?" Mother asked furiously, "I am your Tallest _and_ your creator! You will obey me!"

/Control Brains are Irk. Tallest Mother belongs to Irk. Return to your duty or be terminated./

Mother's squeedlyspooch sank. She wanted to argue that she was an organic being and could not be terminated by the control brains, but she knew at this point that was a lie. Tallest Mother had lived far beyond the average Irken lifespan, and it was all thanks to her PAK. Her PAK was connected to every vital part of her, and was the only thing keeping her alive. Oh, how she _hated_ these monstrosities she had created...

/Tallest Mother has dissenting thoughts about Irk,/ The control brains suddenly announced, /Retract slanderous reasoning or be terminated. This is your only warning./

"I retract!" Tallest Mother quickly shouted; forcing her mind to only focus on how great her creation was to appease them.

The control brains released Tallest Mother and her spider legs caught her before she fell to the ground. She was barely alert again before she saw the control brains hook themselves to the smeet's PAK, and then watched as the smeet screamed and cried as its code was erased. The organic shell of the smeet was dead, as was the inert PAK. An incinerator popped out of the ground, and the body was unceremoniously dumped inside before the incinerator retracted back to its place.

"Take me back to the palace!" Mother angrily ordered her guards, not even looking back at where the smeet had died.

...

Once she had returned to the palace, Mother felt she couldn't do anything besides sit on her throne and sigh. It wasn't seeing death that bothered Mother. Irkens were used to witnessing death and destruction all the time. No, it was the waste. The uselessness of it all. That smeet was defective, but not unsalvageable. Not only that, but the control brains were now controlling themselves...and her. If not even the Tallest could stand against the control brains, then technically the Tallest didn't actually rule Irk. The machines did. Her greatest invention...it had destroyed the very spooch of Irk.

Tallest Sweet then entered the throne room with a notepad, ready to start the day. She noticed however that Tallest Mother didn't look like her usual commanding self.

"Is something wrong?" Sweet asked in concern, "Didn't you enjoy your walk? Or would you rather go for a drive? Maybe buy some supplies at We Are Tech?"

"You were right," Mother said without looking at Sweet, "Our people are dead. We survive, but we're living dead. We're not in control of our own destiny anymore, and now the only Irkens allowed to live are the ones that completely submit their identity to the control brains. Not even I can contain them now."

"What happened?" Sweet asked; a shiver going down her spine and into her PAK.

"Never you mind what happened," Mother growled, "Sweet, I can't go back to the control brains for maintenance. They'll know I object to the power they hold over us. You must never say anything against the control brains, Sweet. Don't even _think_ a negative thought against them!"

Sweet recoiled then, realizing that something terrible was happening. She looked at Mother and suddenly realized how drained her fellow Tallest looked. Mother's hands were shaking, and her eyes looked haunted. A human may liken this to Dr. Frankenstein finding the body of his love that had been murdered by his monster. Sweet knew she couldn't control her thoughts enough to save herself, and she suspected that Tallest Mother couldn't either.

"Jeem," Sweet suddenly said, and the shock of hearing that long abandoned name forced Mother to look at her, "We need to get out of here. We can't help Irk if we're dead."

"We can't help Irk at all," Mother replied bitterly, "There is nothing to be done. The project has been in place for centuries now. Most Irkens don't even remember life before the PAK. I can't get close enough to the control brains to rewire them because I'm wearing a PAK. Everyone is wearing a PAK, and none of us can survive longer than 10 minutes without them."

"So...we're fake-ruling over an undead species?" Sweet asked sadly.

"Pretty much," Mother sighed.

"Okay then, so we can't save our hive," Sweet replied with resignation, "But maybe we can still save ourselves. Do you still have the number of that Vortian scientist designing our ship? What's his name, Tog Bog?"

"Tol Bog," Mother corrected, "And I think I know where you're going with this..."

...

It was a grand day on Irk. The first Irken flagship had finally been constructed, and all of Irk had been ordered to watch the event on monitors placed across the planet. Whether it be Irkens sitting in their homes or Irkens hanging out in battle arenas, the audience was pretty much everyone.

The maiden voyage was going to last for a month, so the Tallests had packed several suitcases full of provisions and a few personal possessions. The Vortians flew their ships into space so they could watch the proceedings from orbit and guide the ship on its journey. Against advisement the Tallests had refused to allow an entourage, instead having the Vortians teach Tallest Mother how to navigate the controls herself.

The ship was quite grand to behold. It was a large fuschia colored metal structure shaped like a crouching locust, with black Irken insignias adoring each side. It had every weapon, shield, and engine upgrade known to Vortian kind, as well as a large kitchen for making snacks. It was the most ambitious project since the control brains themselves.

Crowds cheered as Tallest Mother and Tallest Sweet waved and ascended the ramp to the ship. The trains of their robes were extra long and sparkly, and both wore big smiles for the cameras. This would be the first step toward exploring the stars and conquering the last barrier to Irken superiority.

The countdown went quickly, and then the ship took off into the atmosphere. A camera on the navigation console broadcasted Mother's face as she worked the controls and gave status reports to Irk and the Vortian guidance team. Everything was going great...until a klaxon suddenly blared.

"Something's wrong!" Mother suddenly exclaimed, and all of Irk held its breath as their leader's face took on a look of controlled worry, "Sweet, hull integrity is down. The outer atmosphere is overheating our engine systems. Release the coolant."

"Yes, Mother!" Sweet replied immediately.

"Irken mothership to Vortian control. What's our status?" Mother asked in clipped tones.

"Your ship is breaking apart!" The Vortian captain announced, and every Irken on the planet could hear the edginess in his tone, "Turn around now! Abort the mission! Repeat, abort the mission!"

"I can't...breaking...up...repeat...up..." Mother's console was getting blurrier and her voice was fuzzy through the static, until a few seconds later the screen cut off entirely.

All of Irk was on edge. Some were panicking while others were waiting. This wasn't just a typical dangerous situation unfolding. Both of their Tallests were in that ship! Their leaders could be killed, and for a hive society like the Irkens the death of a Tallest was the greatest personal loss they could feel.

The ship wasn't quite viewable from the sky yet, but the great explosion it suddenly caused was. All of Irk watched, either in person or on the broadcast screens, as the ship carrying both of their leaders was blown to ashes.

* * *

"But I don't get it," Dib interrupted, "How did you and Aunt Kloee survive?"

"The scientist Tol Bog was very brilliant," Jeem replied fondly, "There was a smaller heat proof ship built within the larger clunkier flagship. The whole thing was a red herring to keep the Irken people from looking for us."

"And then you came to earth," Gaz finished up for her.

"Well it was more than just that," Jeem corrected, "We spent probably 500 of your years just traversing various galaxies. Kloee and I are both very tall, which made us very noticeable. We would be welcome long enough to refuel and restock on ingredients for food, but we were never truly welcome to stay anywhere. We were on the run from our home planet, so many assumed we were criminals or freeloaders."

"So, if you went to all those different planets, then why did you settle on earth?" Dib asked curiously.

"Because humans are tall and oblivious," Jeem replied simply.

"That's it?" Dib asked in disappointment, "That's really all our planet has to offer you?"

"Well...I will say this," Jeem added hesitantly, "Earth's capitalism structure is very close to how Irk's diplomatic relations operated. Irkens are very greedy, and humans are too. Your dictatorships and wars also reminded me of home. Unfortunately the current regime reminds me of your World War II."

"Were you alive during World War II?" Gaz asked.

"Yes," Jeem nodded, "I've been a resident of earth for about 350 years. I've seen a lot of change, and admittedly I've caused a lot of that change. Curiosity on earth is a rare thing now, but it used to be the norm. I couldn't have that though, because Kloee and I were in hiding. So, I added chemicals to the world's drinking water filtration systems and Sweet Mother snack foods, so that it make humans dumber. That way we were able to run out the clock in peace."

"Mother, that's horrible!" Membrane shouted accusingly, "You would corrupt the human race just to make your own life easier? How could you use science for such evil?!"

"I turned my own race into techno-zombies. You think I care what happens to a few billion hairless rat people?" Jeem argued, "Besides, I didn't hurt anyone. Humans are happier not seeing their world as it really is...just like Irkens are. Oh, this reminiscing takes me back. I still remember when birth certificates were all the rage in the United States. Kloee and I had to get some so we could continue working, and the guy at the office said that we should write down our first names and, I quote, 'whatever you last name is'."

"Wait, so that's why our last name is..." Membrane put the pieces together, "Hahaha! That is _so_ Aunt Kloee!"

"Indeed, but I didn't feel like making up another name, so I just copied hers," Jeem grinned, but the in a more somber voice said, "Listen, I know I screwed up. Twice. I don't always know my boundaries, and that's why I'm afraid for you to pursue science, Membrane. If I and all my centuries of knowledge can mess up this badly, then imagine what you could do, my little test tube munchkin."

"Grandmother," Dib suddenly spoke up, "You had a chance to change things for your home planet just now, but you didn't. Why don't you try to stop the control brains again? You've been given another chance."

"I only came here to rescue you, Dib," Jeem replied sternly, "Irk is beyond my help. If I go near the control brains my PAK will either be erased or else added to the control brains' consciousness. Earth would be in terrible danger if that happened. Do you know how much information Kloee and I have? No, Irk is better off without me, and I'm better off without it."

"But Zim will just come back and try again!" Dib insisted, "We have to do something to stop them! Earth is our home, even if I'm not as human as I thought I was. Please, we have to do something!"

"Hm..." Membrane hummed as he rubbed his chin, indicating he was deep in thought.

"You got something, Dad?" Gaz asked.

"Maybe..." Membrane replied, "Mother, you said the control brains can infiltrate PAKs, right?"

"Yes, Membrane," Jeem replied as if that were a stupid question.

"Well, I'm not wearing a PAK," Membrane pointed out, "That means if we want to fix the problem, then I'm the man for the job."

"Alright, Dad!" Dib cheered, happy to finally have the start of a world-saving plan.

"No, not _alright Dad_ ," Jeem yelled as she mocked Dib's voice, "Membrane, I don't want you involved in this. Irk is a dangerous place, and we have the grandchildren on board. Besides, you don't know the first thing about Irken technology or how the control brains function."

"But you do," Membrane noted, much to Jeem's chagrin, "Mother, if we turn around now we can get to Irk in a matter of hours. That's more than enough time for you to teach me how to hack into the control brains."

"This is a terrible, suicidal plan!" Jeem snapped defensively, "Earth will protect us. There is no reason for you to worry about my people."

"They're my people too!" Membrane shouted before he could stop himself.

Dib audibly gasped. What was his dad saying? Dib wanted to stop the Irkens from taking over earth, but he wasn't even considering that Irk...should also mean something to him. Dib looked up at Membrane, who was removing his goggles, and Dib got a glimpse of the hideous blue bug eyes behind the eyewear. Dib cringed, but he couldn't look away. Membrane used those eyes to glare at his mother, who could do little more than stare back with a cornered expression.

"You hid my true heritage from me all my life," Membrane said to Jeem, "You kept this secret from me, and believe it or not I do understand the reason. I of all people know about behavioral studies and the observer effect. You probably wanted to see how human I would truly be if I never interacted with anything alien. That's okay. I can forgive that. But Mother, the programming in your control brain AI has turned your people into homicidal monsters. Countless planets are in danger, and the soul of our people has been removed and recoded. We can fix it. _I_ can fix it. Just trust me this once to help you. If we combine our scientific minds we can achieve anything."

Jeem looked conflicted. She turned to each family member to gauge their reactions. Membrane was determined, Dib looked almost pleadingly at her, and Gaz was bouncing a paddle ball and not paying any attention at all. Jeem then looked back to the controls, and without a word reset their course for Irk.

Membrane smiled and actually placed a hand on her shoulder in a show of solidarity. Jeem gave him a quizzical look in turn and then said, "You know Membrane, you might be my blood-munchkin, but right now you remind me so much of Kloee."


	14. I Am Zim!

_Author's Notes: Welcome back to another installment of "Sweet Mother". This is the home stretch. This fic will be done soon, just one more chapter after this, and now is where the action starts to really happen. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed, and I hope you'll stick around to see where this crazy story goes :)_

* * *

Chapter 14

I Am Zim!

Soldiers and servants combed The Massive for hours before they finally realized that there was no place the humans could be. They had escaped with the PAK of Tallest Sweet; an artifact of a mysterious Irken past. Needless to say the current Tallests were royally ticked off, and making matters worse was that they weren't allowed to be alone with their rage.

"Maybe the _pitiful_ humans are hiding in the airlock, my Tallest," Zim suggested as he followed the pair like an annoying baby duck.

"Pfft, I wish," Purple grumbled, "How did these brainless monkeys manage to outwit our finest soldiers? Maybe we should kill some of the guards. You know, to send a message."

"There will be time for punishments later," Red reasoned, "For the moment we need to figure out where the humans will go now."

"Probably their _precious_ little home planet," Purple mockingly scoffed, "Look at me, I'm a stupid little pig monkey! I can only travel at warp zero! I eat dirt and have thumbs! Bleh!"

"Hahahaha!" Red laughed at his friend's antics, "Okay, okay, give me a minute to catch my breath! ... Okay. I'm okay now."

"Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! My Tallest?" Zim jumped up and down while waving his arms to catch their attention.

"Ugh, what is it, Zim?" Red sighed irritably.

"I don't think the Dib-beast will go back to earth," Zim told them, "I've battled with that big-headed menace for FAR too long, and I know his brain meats inside and out. Literally. I once piloted a ship inside his GIGANTIC head."

"Eww!" Purple stuck out his tongue in disgust.

"I think he'll try to find Irk," Zim explained, "He defies the will of the Irken armada, and he likes to cut open aliens with his _primitive_ human tools. TOOLS!"

Red and Purple couldn't help but squirm a little. They wouldn't really believe Zim's claims that the Dib thing was dangerous, except that it was being primed to be the next leader of earth. Its current leader was quite tall. There were some Tallests (not them) that failed to reach such impressive height. Earth could be a serious enemy if Zim was wrong about the humans being dumb, and Zim's credibility was frankly a joke at this point.

"Navigator!" Red barked at the technician piloting the ship, "Set course for Irk. If the humans try to get to the Control Brains, we have to be there to stop them."

"Um, but sir, Zim is the one who-," The navigator tried to object.

"You heard the man! Do it!" Purple commanded even more harshly.

"Ah! Yes, my Tallest. Of course. At once!" The navigator stammered as he nervously fiddled with the controls.

"What about me, my Tallest?" Zim asked eagerly, "What do you want me, THE MIGHTY ZIM, to do for you?"

The two of them just looked at each other like they were silently trying to pry the other one to clean out a litter box. They both then looked down at Zim, who was smiling up at them like a kid awaiting his allowance. Purple was the first to break the unspoken tension.

"Yes Zim, you. _Right_ ," Purple said slyly, "We have a _very_ special job for you. You're going to go back to earth and destroy the Dib and his family for us should they ever show their ugly faces again."

"Oh, but I'm already in the process of conquering earth," Zim replied almost defensively, "I just need to soften up the _smelly_ humans before the planet is ready for the armada. Isn't there anything else I can do?"

"Well..." Purple acted like he was thinking before he replied, "Before you go to earth you should probably have the right weaponry to defeat the humans. Oh, I know! Zim, when we get to Irk go to the Control Brains and ask for a PAK evaluation. Once the Control Brains have determined your strengths and weaknesses they will assign you the perfect weapons for defeating your enemies."

"Yes! Victory for Zim!" Zim shouted in triumph and held his fists up in the air, "I will get these awesome weapons of awesomeness, and then rain some doom down on that horrible doomed planet! Mwahahahahaha!"

"Yes, yes, just go already," Purple waved him away, "Oh, and take one of the really fast voot cruisers. We want you evaluated as soon as possible...you know, for the good of the mission."

Purple snerked a little at his own words, but Zim didn't notice. He ran out of the room with the enthusiasm of a champion, ready to conquer the earth and kill those that would dare steal from the mighty Irken Empire.

Once Zim was gone, Red turned to his Co-Tallest and in a deadpan voice said, "You know he's defective, right? The Control Brains will evaluate his PAK and deactivate him."

"I know," Purple replied with a sinister smirk.

"Purple..." Red sighed, but then grinned and said, "You're a genius."

The two Tallests then laughed together over the opportunity Purple had just taken advantage of. Soon they would be rid of Zim forever, and once they found the PAK of Tallest Sweet and fed her memories into the Control Brains it would be a perfect week. They just had to get to the PAK before the humans did something horrible to it.

* * *

"Are you _sure_ you understand how the system works, munchkin?" Jeem asked Membrane for probably the fifth time.

"Yes, Mother. We've been over this seventeen times," Membrane sighed impatiently, "I enter the network using this special computer you gave me, and then I install the override code. Once the code is in place, I install the new muted control brain personality patch. With the patch in place the control brains will bend to the will of their creator, i.e., you."

"Correct," Jeem nodded approvingly, "Oh, and the will of the Tallest. Don't forget about that."

" _What_!?" Dib exclaimed incredulously, "But they might override you! Why would you give those monsters that kind of power?"

"Because they rule Irk, grandson," Jeem explained in a longsuffering tone of voice, "I may be a rogue, but I'm not an anarchist. One problem with the current control brains is that they don't obey the Tallest. The Tallest obey _them_. Irkens have become nothing more than pawns, and in order to remedy the situation Irkens must be given their autonomy back."

"But...but what if the Irkens are still...you know?" Dib asked hesitantly, "What if they regain the power of free will, and decide they _like_ being evil?"

"That's a very real possibility," Jeem conceded.

"Well? Then shouldn't we just program the PAKs to make the Irkens good?" Dib asked, "Wouldn't that be better?"

"Son," Membrane bent down to speak to Dib at eye level, "We can't do that."

"But why not?" Dib asked.

"Because it wouldn't actually solve the problem," Membrane told him as gently as he could, "If we make the Irkens into what we want them to be, then they still won't be free. We'd be no better than the soulless machines that dictate their lives right now. Sure, some Irkens might stay evil, but some might turn to doing good and undoing some of the damage. If they never get that choice however, then they'll never get to truly feel alive. Would you want that, son? To feel like you could never be anything other than what your programming told you to be? To be a robot instead of a man?"

"Well..." Dib pondered over these words, and then said out loud, "Zim would probably still be evil. He seems to have a personality of his own, and the Tallest seemed to have personalities, but the other Irkens seemed so...empty. Like drones or something."

"The control brains don't take away one's personality," Jeem corrected Dib, "They force a dependence on the user that starts as a symbiotic relationship that gradually becomes parasitic. I know humans tend to think of the loss of free will as the loss of thought. I've seen enough of your dystopian movies to know how you perceive it. That's not reality though. Reality is that Irkens can no longer reproduce, Irkens can no longer choose their own careers or where they will live, and if an Irken dies defective their existence is erased from the collective's memory. When a smeet is born, the memory of every dead Irken that preceded them is installed into their PAK. They are born having lived a million lifetimes. Essentially, because of this, each Irken is immortal. Yet from birth each Irken's legacy is held hostage by forces they cannot control and cannot predict."

"Whoa..." Dib breathed in sickened awe, "So...when you die...every future Irken will remember everything you've ever done?"

"Not if I can help it," Jeem growled, "You forget munchkin, I know earth's location and weaknesses, and so did Kloee. If our memories end up in the control brain database then everything you care about could be destroyed. That's why I don't want to do this. I know what could happen."

"But Dad's doing it," Gaz pointed out, "Everything will be fine."

"Wow, that's surprisingly optimistic of you, Gaz," Dib commented.

"Yeah well, normally I have to trust _you_ , which I don't," Gaz replied dryly, "I do trust Dad though."

"Gee, thanks," Dib deadpanned sourly.

The computer pinged at them then, indicating that Irk was within range and that they should prepare for atmospheric entry. Dib, Membrane, and Gaz put on their seatbelts as they sat in their chairs. Jeem turned off the hover on her chair and activated a magnetic gravity lock to keep it rooted to the floor. She then held on tight since there was no seatbelt.

Reentry began, and the temperature rose in the cockpit. The ship sped up due to the natural gravity of Irk, which was a larger planet than earth. Dib and Gaz screamed, though it was the type of scream one lets out when riding a roller coaster. Membrane laughed giddily, also enjoying the ride. Jeem's robotic gloves dug into her armrests and she clenched her teeth, but she barely made any noise as they descended toward the capital city.

The ship smoothly landed in a parking garage and decompressed, and everyone let out a collective sigh of relief. The hailing frequency then pinged at them.

/Attention newly parked vessel,/ A male Irken voice droned, /You will need to pay the 20 monies required to park here or else your vehicle will be vaporized. Thank you and have a productive day./

"Great, all I have is earth money," Jeem groused, "Well kids, we'd better hurry up and run before they blow us to oblivion."

The door flew open, and all four passengers quickly booked it out of there before a death ray shot out of the side of the parking garage and blew up their ship! The group hid behind some sort of seating area, and Dib and Jeem both quickly darted their eyes around to make sure there were no Irkens to spot their arrival.

"The coast is clear," Jeem told them, "Now, we're going to have to be sneaky about this if we're going to make it to control brain operation complex. Does anyone have any nail polish remover?"

"No," Dib whispered, "Why would we have that?"

"Well I need something to remove the human disguise with!" Jeem hissed in reply, "My hair is superglued on, and my makeup requires a solvent to remove. I might be able to remove the contacts though."

"I have some acetone in my lab coat," Membrane offered, "Would that help?"

"You do realize that's the main ingredient in nail polish remover, right?" Jeem asked with a wry smile.

"Obviously I didn't," Membrane bit back, "It's not like I have any reason to wear nail polish! I mean for crying out loud, I haven't even had real fingers since age seven!"

"Kloee told you not to pet that shark!" Jeem countered.

"You didn't even know about it for three weeks!" Membrane yelled angrily.

"I was on a business trip!" Jeem argued, "Your insipid hobbies didn't pay for themselves!"

"Ugh! Can you guys _focus_?" Dib asked irritably.

" _Fine_!" Membrane and Jeem snapped in unison.

Membrane then handed Jeem the acetone, and the first thing she did was pour some on her wig. Normally she had a delicate process to remove the oversized hair piece, but they were in a hurry. She then started vigorously rubbing away her peach colored makeup and peeling away at her contacts. Within a matter of minutes Membrane and his children were starting at a tall green Irken female with crooked curly antennae and deep somewhat cloudy purple eyes.

"I have to keep the gloves on," Jeem told them, "I know four fingers is too many for an Irken, but two is too few. They would realize I'm a Tallest, and that would draw much more attention than four fingers on each hand."

"Well then what do we do?" Dib asked, "How do we hide?"

"I don't know about Membrane, but I think I know how to hide you kids..."

* * *

Zim was so excited. He was on a mission to take down his worst enemy once and for all, and he would get new super weapons to do it with. The Tallests had already given him the most important planet to conquer, and now he was personally going to see to the retrieval of an ancient Irken artifact. He was finally getting the recognition and attention he'd always wanted.

Zim had to go through several checkpoints to get to the Control Brains, but fortunately he had special clearance from the Tallest. The guards for the most part let Zim through, but one stopped him just before he got to the door.

"Halt! You may not enter the operations room!" The burly Irken guard ordered Zim.

"But...I _am_ supposed to go in there!" Zim insisted confrontationally, "The Tallests told me to get my super weapons from the Control Brains. You _dare_ disobey the Tallest!?"

"You can't get super weapons from the Control Brains, moron!" The guard corrected him, "The only way you can get weapons is-"

"Silence!" Zim screeched, "Outta my way!"

Zim then used a stun gun from his PAK to incapacitate the annoying guard. No way was he going to let anyone stop him from achieving greatness. His ambitions, his legacy, his chance to be the pride of the Irken Empire...it was all behind that door just waiting for him.

Zim entered the room, which was almost the size of a stadium, and looked up at the greatest piece of technology ever devised: the Control Brains. There were many red scanners on the orb-shaped metallic structures. It almost looked like a Brooglichian spider's nest, and the way the plugs and tubes hung down slightly only added to the illusion. This place, these machines...this was the very heart of Irk.

"Hello mighty Control Brains. I am Zim!" Zim announced himself proudly, "I have been sent by the Tallest to give you information on my mission and my enemies so that you may give me the appropriate super weapons. GIVE TO ZIM!"

At his proclamation, the red sensors activated and began to scan Zim. They found his location and attached tubes to his PAK to extrapolate data from him. Most Irkens hated his procedure because it was the most invasive thing that could be done to them. The Control Brains were entering Zim's mind; his very soul.

"Orders from the Tallest have been received," The Control Brains stated in a monotone multi-pitched voice, "Begin existence evaluation..."

"Existence evaluation?" Zim asked nervously, "No, no! That's not what I'm here for! I need weapons! I must destroy the Dib's giant head! I am too important to be evaluated. I AM ZIM!"

* * *

The guards at the operation center normally didn't have much to do. Most Irkens came to the Control Brains by appointment, and the few that didn't usually had some sort of high clearance. That meant the guards didn't meet a lot of people in their line of work. So imagine their surprise when after dealing with Zim they saw that a very tall female came to them shortly after with an alien prisoner in tow.

Jeem walked closer to the operation center all the while holding onto the arm of Membrane, who had his hands tied in front of him. She walked slowly, because within the voluminous skirt of her dress Dib and Gaz were each hanging onto one of her legs. This way they could hide in case something went wrong. Not that she could've gone faster anyway. Walking wasn't something she was used to anymore.

"Halt!" One of the guards ordered, "Why have you brought an alien in the vicinity of the Control Brains? Is this a Zim thing?"

"No. I'm here to rip out the human's mechanical implants and use them to repair a faulty module in the Control Brains' grabby things," Jeem lied as smoothly as she could.

"Implants?" The guard asked.

Jeem then lifted down one of Membrane's gloves; revealing his mechanical arm. Membrane winced, despising showing anyone his prosthetics since it only added to his perceived freakiness. His discomfort added to the illusion of being a prisoner, and the guard was fooled by the explanation.

Once the pair was allowed inside, Jeem slowly walked in with Membrane. Once they were in the dimly lit hallways of the operation center, Jeem lifted up her skirt so that the kids could get out and walk freely again.

"* _Gasp_ *! Man, your feet _stink_!" Dib complained, "How long have you been wearing those boots?"

"30 years, give or take," Jeem shrugged indifferently, "I don't buy new things unless I need them. Apparently a philosophy neither of our worlds share anymore."

"Does this place have a plug where I can charge my Game Slave?" Gaz asked.

" _Europe_ doesn't have the proper plugs for that thing, and you expect to find one on _Irk_?" Jeem asked snidely.

"Pfft, I was just asking," Gaz scowled indignantly.

"Where are these control brains, Mother?" Membrane inquired.

"Down this hallway within the double doors on the left," Jeem replied, "It'll take a few minutes to walk there, and I would appreciate it if we moved slowly. My back feels like it's on fire!"

Dib winced as he realized Jeem was indeed bent over and gritting her teeth in pain. It was still weird to look at her green skin, her purple pupiless eyes, and her pink zipper-shaped teeth. She always looked imposing due to her height, but seeing how alien she was made her look a lot more threatening to the junior paranormal investigator. Like some kind of shadowy monster.

"Dib," Gaz whispered harshly at Dib, "You're staring at Grandmother. Stop it. It's weird."

"Sorry, I just..." Dib wasn't quite sure how to verbalize his fears, so he just said, "It's nothing."

"You think we'll turn green like her?" Gaz asked out of the blue.

"I hope not," Dib replied, "I can't believe Dad didn't know. Who keeps something this important from their own kids?"

"Irkens apparently," Gaz replied matter-of-factly, "I'm not as surprised as I thought I'd be, actually. We've always been different from them."

"Them?" Dib asked.

"Other kids. Other people. You know. _Them_ ," Gaz elaborated, "It's kind of a relief. To know there's a reason, and that we won't one day wake up and find out we turned into a bunch of drooling idiot adults. We'll always be different. We're smarter than them."

"I don't wanna be an Irken!" Dib hissed softly so the adults walking ahead of them wouldn't hear, "I don't wanna be like Zim. He's a monster. I don't wanna wake up and suddenly have the urge to conquer the galaxy."

"Don't you get it, doofus? That's why we're here. So that doesn't happen," Gaz reminded him, "If we fix their stupid control thingies then Irkens won't want to destroy everything. This isn't how they're supposed to be. It's how they're _programmed_ to be. I bet even Zim isn't supposed to be like this."

Dib hadn't considered that one. Zim was born into a system that was rigged to make him evil. Every PAK was like a virus that told its host to kill. Like being born possessed. Dib involuntarily shivered, realizing how horrifying this situation really was. He was beginning to understand why his grandmother was so scared. If she failed, then she would become just like them...or be killed resisting.

"The doors are...just around...this corner," Jeem huffed as she struggled to catch her breath. She had been walking at a normal pace, but her old body was crying out for relief from gravity, "Membrane, you won't have much time. Remember the plan."

"Of course, Mother," Membrane nodded, "This is going to work."

Jeem smiled at Membrane's determination. She generally wasn't proud of her creation, but in this moment she was so glad that Membrane was her son. Perhaps science hadn't been such a bad idea after all...

The reinforced double doors came into view, and the family braced themselves for the task ahead. Before they could even get to the door however, they heard someone screaming from inside! They couldn't quite make out what was being said, until they heard a piercing voice scream out "I AM ZIM!"

"What the-?" Dib exclaimed.

Membrane wasted no time and used his specialized computer to hack the door open, and the sight that greeted them was truly unnerving. Zim was suspended in the air by tubes coming from the ceiling. Dozens of red optics stared at their prey, and Zim's body writhed in agony. He was screaming at the top of his lungs, and drool was coming from his mouth. His PAK blinked every few seconds, as if it were giving him an electric shock. The humans didn't know what was going on, but Jeem did. Zim was being erased.


End file.
